Harmony
by CrazyGirlFortySeven
Summary: Weeks after the final battle against Voldemort, a young woman finds herself in a London hospital with no memory of who she is or how she has been injured. Will Harmony be able to survive the revealing of her own memories? HxG, RxHr
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Summary:** Weeks after the final battle against Voldemort, a young woman finds herself in a London hospital with no memory of who she is or how she has been injured. Three years after her initial awakening, Harmony Wesley's life is turned upside down by the appearance of two strange boys in her University dormitory. Unnerved by her friend Caroline's strange behavior and the incongruous actions of the two young men, will Harmony be able to survive the revealing of her own memories?

Chapter 1

Her eyes opened slowly and stared, uncomprehendingly, around the darkened room. Odd instruments that emitted piercing bleeps and sickly green light surrounded her. That light. The colour of the light frightened her. The piercing noises were steadily increasing in frequency, which only added to her growing terror. She wanted to move - oh, she wanted to move so badly, but excruciating pain assaulted her when she twitched her arms and legs.

The sound of running footsteps echoed into the room from the corridor. Her breathing was unsteady now and her ribs flamed with the movement of her chest. She was going to die, she knew it. She had to get away from that room before the person reached her...

A white-coated figure was outlined in the doorway for a moment before light flooded the room and the person walked inside.

"Please try to calm down, Miss," a male voice pleaded. She felt a moment of intense disorientation before she realised that she was in a hospital. She shook her head weakly and found herself laughing rather hysterically in relief.

"Hospital, I'm in a hospital," her voice rasped, and the concerned male voice confirmed her statement.

"You were admitted into the hospital two weeks ago," the man - a nurse, she now realised - explained to her while he examined the electronic devices arranged around her bed. "You were unconscious and badly injured, but, given time, you will likely recover. My name is Samuel and I am your charge nurse." He removed a pen from the pocket of his overcoat and jotted something onto a clipboard that he retrieved from the foot of her bed. "Do you remember what you were doing before your accident?"

"I..." The knowledge slipped from her mind before she could put it into words. "I can't remember." Unease began to pool in her gut and she winced when her brow began to furrow. Her head throbbed dizzyingly.

"You shouldn't feel alarmed that you can't remember. People who sustain head injuries often have trouble remembering the events leading up to the trauma. Can you tell me your name?"

Her face crumpled and she could feel her chin begin to quiver against her will. "I can't remember anything." Even her voice seemed swollen and it lodged itself uncomfortably in her throat. "What happened to me?"

"We don't know, although your injuries suggest that you were badly beaten. You suffered a severe concussion, deep tissue bruising on your arms and legs, and two broken ribs, which resulted in a collapsed lung." Samuel placed his hand on her shoulder. "Are you having trouble breathing?" When she nodded, he removed the stethoscope from around his shoulders and instructed her to lean back.

She jumped at the shock of the cold instrument against her skin. "It sounds like your lungs are healing, though it will be a few weeks before you are able to breathe deeply," Samuel said, after a moment of gentle prodding. "Would you like a glass of water?" She nodded and he disappeared from her line of sight for a moment to return with a small glass.

"Thank you," she said and managed to take a small sip with his assistance.

"Would you like anything else? Perhaps something small to eat, or something to reduce your pain?" The very thought of food made her stomach churn unpleasantly, but relief from the constant throbbing in her head and chest would be welcome. Samuel handed her a small white pill and a second glass of water.

After she took the pill she looked up at Samuel, the information he had given her was just beginning to sink in. "Why do you think I was beaten?"

"The bruising patterns on your arms and legs suggest malicious intent, but this is just speculation."

"No. No, I don't think I was. I wasn't beaten," she said in a stronger voice, knowing somehow this was the truth. Samuel nodded obligingly but even her pain-clouded eyes could detect his disbelief and pity. It made her angry. "I wasn't!" she insisted and he nodded once again.

"Please, I didn't mean to upset you. It is very important that you don't over-tax your lungs. You are safe here. There is nothing for you to worry about." She nodded. Her breathing began to slow.

"What am I going to do if I don't regain my memory?" she asked in a small voice.

Samuel paused for a moment. "Sometimes looking through possessions helps patients to regain their memories. Would you like to see the clothing you were wearing when you were admitted to the hospital?" She nodded and after a moment of shuffling about in a bed-side cupboard, Samuel removed a small bag. He helped her sit up and untied the secure plastic ties that held the bag closed.

Folded neatly at the top of the bag was a tunic-like black shirt and matching black leggings. She shook her head, pulling the fabric out of the bag and onto her lap. The garments were eccentric in style, but they provoked no sudden flashes of insight. She reached into the bag a second time and removed a pair of mud-crusted, serviceable boots. A third peek into the bag revealed it to be empty save for a small golden ring nearly concealed by a pleat of plastic. She picked up the band and examined it closely. It was scratched and worn, but not damaged. The ring lacked a set gemstone; however, it was engraved with delicate, twining script. She squinted. The writing had almost been obscured by wear. "Harmony Wesley..." she said uncertainly. The writing could easily have said something else; the engraving was nearly ruined.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Samuel asked her.

"I..." She took a moment to breathe. Her heart was racing. "I think that's my name."

He jotted down a note on the clipboard and nodded. "When we removed the ring we saw the engraving, but we couldn't make out the letters. I'll see if we can track down your records." He shifted his weight, looking as though he was trying to make a difficult decision. "There's something more," he said.

"What is it?" When he didn't reply immediately her imagination jumped to the worst possible conclusion. "Am I going to die?"

"No, you will likely make a full recovery," Samuel said. "Which is a miracle in itself. Your injuries were incredibly severe. It's amazing that you survived." He paused, taking a deep breath. "What's even more amazing is that your baby survived."

"Baby?" she whispered. "I'm pregnant?

* * * * *

_A white heat filled her abdomen; a pain so excruciating she would remember it until the day she died. Sweat broke across her forehead and a terrified whimper was torn from her throat. Something was very wrong, but she could not grasp what it was. The lack of knowledge that accompanied her pain was far more frightening than anything she had ever experienced._

_She was losing something precious. She could feel it being wrested from her body. It was unthinkable that after she had lost everything else, this small joy was being stolen as well..._

A young woman, not much older than twenty, opened her eyes drowsily. She had dreamed of that night again. Years had passed, but the memory was still fresh in her mind. Sharp needles of loss continued to prick her at times like these. Even though she had no memory leading up to that traumatic day, she knew that she must have been happy once.

Harmony stretched stiffly and slipped out of the too-hard bed in her university dormitory. It was three o'clock in the morning, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep again. She sighed softly to herself as she slipped on a pair of padded slippers and shuffled down the dormitory corridor to the washroom. She purposefully avoided looking at herself in the mirror as she passed. She knew what she would look like after one of those dreams. Her face would be drawn and greyish and her eyes would be swollen from the tears she had shed in her sleep. Her hair would be fit for a bird to nest in, but that was not much of an abnormality.

She padded back to her bare room and tried desperately to distract her sorrow-filled mind with the complexities of scientific literature.

* * * * *

"Harmony, can you help me with this sentence? I can't seem to get it right," a blond-haired girl asked from across the table. Three girls sat in a dusty study hall in the basement of their dormitory. Other students rarely visited the dimly lit room with its peeling red paint and graffiti-covered furniture. Harmony, however, found she enjoyed studying in locations that most people found unwelcoming. The dark room, with its circular tables, gave her a sense of peace and belonging that she couldn't quite explain.

Harmony smiled at her friend in an attempt to banish the odd thoughts that fluttered across her mind. It felt so nice to study in a small group, even if her friends could be slightly bothersome at times. Elaine had a tendency to underestimate her work, which was rather odd because she was one of the most confident and assertive people she knew. Caroline, on the other hand, worked diligently, but only as long as she had nothing better to do.

"I'm sure it's fine," Harmony chuckled, accepting the piece of paper her friend passed her. It was Latin. She blanched, feeling something stir deep within herself. She had never been entirely comfortable taking Latin, however she had learned the language regardless of the oddly restless feelings it invoked within her. She convinced herself that it would be useful to know the language that was the basis of contemporary scientific terminology. "I think you mis-conjugated the last verb, but other than that it looks perfect."

"You're sure?" Elaine asked needlessly. She wore a slight frown that somehow made her fine-boned features seem even more delicate.

"Of course she's sure, Elaine," Caroline said with a grin in her voice as she looked up from her assignment. Long dark hair spilled across her page and Caroline impatiently brushed the errant strands behind her ear.

Elaine made a small noise through her nose and rolled her eyes. "How could I have possibly doubted?"

Blue spots, much like the after-image from a very bright camera flash, danced around the periphery of Harmony's vision.

"You're just too brilliant sometimes," Elaine muttered teasingly. She gave a wide grin and accepted the paper back from Harmony's trembling fingers. Harmony clutched her temples and crumpled to the surface of the worn table. There was a sharp hissing in her ears and small blue dots swarmed in front of her eyes. She gasped in panic before the world went black.

* * * * *

_She stood in the centre of a sterile room, feeling unexpectedly joyful. There were warm arms enfolding her in a comfortable embrace. A gruff voice whispered into her ear._

_"Is this going to be enough for us, love?"_

_She blushed, nodding her head as she imagined possibilities for the bare flat. The cream-coloured walls gave an illusion of space and the hardwood floors lent the tiny apartment an unusual type of warmth that she instantly adored. It was small, but comfortable. It was the perfect home for a pair of young newlyweds._

_"It's wonderful," she whispered. _

_The strong arms tightened around her waist and she shivered when she felt a kiss placed on the side of her neck. "It's ours, then." _

_She quivered with happiness as she stared down at the simple golden band on her ring finger, shining softly from their entwined hands. There was only one thing that could possibly make this moment any better, she thought and her mood dampened. A sliver of fear pierced her heart; she wished desperately for peace. She yearned for a simple life with her family and friends…_

Harmony's brown eyes flickered open to the sight of pure white walls. These walls, however, did not shine with the promise of future happiness. She was in a hospital. The soothing tendrils of her dream were quickly chased away by feelings of regret and heartbreak. Harmony's daughter had died in this very building.

* * * * *

Caroline helped with Harmony's paperwork and before long, she was discharged from the hospital. She sat silently in Caroline's car, her emotions writhing inside her. She hated hospitals.

Harmony stared out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant emptiness that resounded within her chest. Why couldn't she remember anything? Her gaze flickered down to the simple golden wedding band on her finger. She had almost given birth to a baby girl, but Harmony couldn't even remember who the father was.

At least she knew she had been married, Harmony thought with a wry smile. But why hadn't her husband looked for her? Perhaps he had beaten her. Perhaps it had been his cruelty that had caused her to miscarry her child. But she couldn't think about that. It couldn't be true.

"What did the doctor say?" Caroline asked when the silence in the small vehicle became too pronounced. Harmony sighed, being startled out of her rather morbid thoughts. She had to pull herself together.

"He said there was nothing wrong with me, save low iron levels in my blood. According to him, I should eat more red meat." Caroline nodded, her long dark hair cascading down her back and glowing in the afternoon light. Harmony stared, wondering how it was that someone with such dark hair could possibly have red highlights. Caroline's eyes did not leave the road.

Another silence stretched before Caroline spoke again. "The room next-door to yours in the dormitory has been rented out again. The new people should be moving in right now."

She nodded, a small snicker twisting her lips. "Hopefully the new students will be a little quieter then the last two." Caroline laughed, shaking her head at Harmony's complaint. "I know it didn't bother you, having been brought up in such a large family, but I like some semblance of peace while I try to sleep," she grumbled.

"I don't see how anyone could possibly be louder than Hamish and Robert were," Caroline laughed, turning off the engine as they reached the car park outside of the student residence. Caroline watched Harmony closely as she exited the car and walked toward the towers where they lived.

The late fall air was crisp and she breathed in deeply. One of Caroline's shoes scuffed the uneven pavement and Harmony turned towards her. Her friend's gaze followed her much like a protective mother's would a child who was just learning to walk.

She winced. Someday thoughts of children would cease to hurt her, but for now it was best to try and forget. It was rather ironic that she wished to forget one of the few memories she possessed.

Chaos greeted them when they reached the eleventh floor of the tower. There were dozens of boxes littering the carpeted floor and two loud masculine voices filled the air as they stepped out of the elevator and into the hall.

"What do you mean it's my fault? You were the one who was supposed to look after the papers!"

"No way! Kingsley left them with you because everyone knows I'm rubbish at remembering little things like that!"

"Little things? This is hardly little! We can't check in formally until we bring the stupid form to the front desk!"

"It's just a bloody parchment. We could always just use..."

"Shut up, you prat! We're not the only ones on this floor! Remember where we are!"

Harmony peeked around the corner of the hallway but Caroline blocked her way, her eyes unnaturally wide and her face extremely pale.

"I suppose they're going to be louder after all," she said, with a soft forced laugh. Harmony frowned, trying to peek around her friend's form. Since Caroline was a good inch taller than her, she could see nothing more than the boxes littering the floor in front of her room.

"Let's do these poor blokes a favour and see if we can get them a spare key from the advisor." Caroline suggested, almost pushing Harmony back into the elevator they had just exited.

"I'm a little tired, Caroline..."

"All the more reason we need to do this." The elevator door chimed closed. "You'll never be able to sleep with the racket these guys are making."

"They'll never give you the key," Harmony said irritably as her friend pushed her out of the elevator and towards the front counter in the main atrium of the residence building.

"Perhaps not, but they will give you the key if you ask nicely. You are studious and proper. How can they not trust you?"

"Caroline," she said in warning, but she could tell her friend could barely hear her.

"I need to use the loo, so I'll be right back." Caroline said, heading away from the counter and cutting off her protests. "Don't go back up without me."

"I don't want to do..."

"Promise me you won't go back up without me," Caroline said in a sing-song voice and disappeared around a corner.

She leaned against the front counter and ground her teeth in irritation.

"Hi, Harmony, is there anything I can help you with?" the charming voice of the residence advisor jolted her out of her anger.

"I'd like the spare key to room 1147, please."

* * * * *

Once Caroline rounded the corner and disappeared from Harmony's line of vision, instead of entering the main-floor washroom, she darted back into the elevator. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest and she could feel adrenaline powering her movements. She would have to work quickly if she wanted to avoid a catastrophe.

When she stepped onto the eleventh floor she was greeted by the angry voices of the two men reverberating through the narrow hallway. She reached into an inner pocket of her coat and removed a small piece of polished wood. She spoke a phrase of flawless Latin and gave the stick a quick swish. Now when Harmony became tired of waiting for Caroline at the front desk she would find the elevator had broken down. Hopefully this would be enough to dissuade her from coming up to the eleventh floor. Caroline spoke a few more words and pointed up at the overhead lights in the hallway, and they winked out instantly. A soft popping noise indicated that the corridor had been isolated from unwanted intruders.

The voices stilled as the lights extinguished. Caroline burst around the corner shouting Latin phrases as she ran towards the two men. The taller of the two men shouted obscenities at her as he fell to the floor. The dark-haired man, however, had been much more alert than his friend and had dodged away from the stream of sparks and light that had been expelled from her small wand.

More quickly than she had expected, her opponent retaliated and Caroline found herself pinned where she stood. Her breathing hitched and her anger simmered as she watched the dark-haired man nonchalantly adjust his glasses and release his partner from her spell. So much for taking an aggressive approach, she thought darkly, scowling with all her might as the two men walked towards her calmly.

"Who are you?" The steely gaze of the dark-haired man did not intimidate her in the slightest. It was difficult; after all, to be frightened of people you had known most of your life.

"It doesn't matter who I am," Caroline said, lifting her chin in the most defiant motion she was capable of at the moment. "You, however, are Ronald Weasley, and of course, Harry Potter." She nodded at the tall redhead and the dark-haired man in turn.

"Very clever," Ron growled, squinting at her in the dark of the hallway before he cast a questioning glance at his be-spectacled friend. "What do you think she's doing here?"

"My guess is that she's an Auror. Her movements were very quick." Harry ran a hand through his unkempt black hair.

"Funny way of showing that we're on the same side," Ron grumbled under his breath.

"For Merlin's sake! I am standing right here!" Caroline exclaimed, feeling a blush of anger flare to her cheeks. These two men had always been very proficient at ignoring her. She hated being ignored.

"It's funny that Headquarters didn't tell us that there would be other Aurors in the area," Harry mused, tapping his wand absently and staring at Caroline as though she were a puzzle to be solved.

"That's because I'm not an Auror, you ass!" she spat. Her irritation increased two-fold as all the reaction that her statement produced in the two men was a subtle raising of eyebrows.

"It just goes to show you that we can't go anywhere at all without being recognised," Ron grumbled, a glimmer covering his face as he spoke. His vibrant red hair dulled to a deep auburn and his eyes became a muddy brown. The freckles that adorned the bridge of his nose fled from sight and even the form of his face shifted.

Harry nodded to his friend. His features blurred together and his glasses vanished. His dark hair became a dusty blond and the vibrant green of his eyes was diluted to a watery grey.

"Well, all we have to do now is figure out why she attacked us." Harry walked around Caroline in a slow tight circle. "Are you a Death Eater?" he hissed, fixing her with a dangerous gaze.

She fought the urge to shiver at his close proximity and ultimately failed despite her anger. She turned her head away from Harry, disgusted by her own body's mutinous response.

"If I was a Death Eater, I would have cast Unforgivables, rather than elementary hexes," Caroline said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm surprised that you two haven't been killed yet. I don't think I've ever met two more careless Aurors."

"She has you there, mate," Ron sighed with a slight laugh and a shake of his head. It seemed very odd to Caroline to hear his voice coming from someone who looked like a stranger. A feeling of cold dread gripped her. Could they recognise her voice?

"You two can't stay here," She said suddenly, realising that time was quickly passing and nothing had been done to alleviate the danger of the situation.

"We can't?" A corner of Harry's mouth curled in a half smile. "And why would that be?"

Caroline set her jaw. "You have to leave!" The two men exchanged a look and fixed their eyes on her once more.

"She's protecting someone," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at her. Her heart jumped to her throat. Was he using Legilimency? He must have been, she thought wildly, looking at the floor at once. She desperately hoped she had broken their eye contact before he had been able to discover anything of value concerning her secret.

"Who?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. She closed her eyes, wishing desperately that she was having a nightmare. Unfortunately, when her eyes opened Ron's disguised form continued to stand in front of her.

"I can't tell," Harry said quietly. "It's almost as though she's bound by a charm."

Caroline's mouth pressed into a thin line. She sighed, deciding that she had to cut her losses and surrender to their interrogation for the greater good. There was significantly more than the security of her operation hanging perilously in the balance. "I work at the Department of Mysteries," she said, looking up into Harry's disbelieving face.

Even through the glimmer, she thought she could see facets of his true face. His hair remained dishevelled, although now it was blond. His eyes glinted strangely, almost as though there was something shielding them from the world, though no glasses could be seen.

Harry roughly grabbed her wrist and raised the sleeve of her jacket to reveal her bare forearm. Nodding as though he was somewhat satisfied with her answer, he checked her other arm and then turned back to Ron. "She's clean," he said before performing a charm on her wand. "She's never cast Dark magic with that wand, at least."

"Thanks, Harry," Caroline grumbled in irritation, momentarily forgetting herself in the offended relief she felt at his proclamation. The foreign tone she had adopted to conceal herself had slipped.

Harry's face snapped up and he studied her carefully. "I know you."

Her heart trembled.

"You went to Hogwarts didn't you?" he asked. Caroline remained still under the two Aurors' questioning.

"Your voice sounds very familiar," said Ron and a moment later the elevator chimed and its doors slid open.

She swore venomously. How could she have possibly forgotten how many times her father complained about the inability of certain electrical objects to hold magic spells?

**A/N: I wrote this fanfic ages ago, but I've decided to re-post it since it seems to have disappeared from Checkmated where it was originally archived. I'd like to thank Rinna and Shiiki for their editing and advice when I first wrote this. I've made some additional changes to this chapter, so any errors are my fault. Let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 2**

Harmony was disgusted by how quickly she was able to convince the residence advisor to give her the key. He must have known that it was highly unethical to give out keys to other people's rooms. This, however, did not stop her from accepting the key when it was handed to her. She was disgusted with herself for going along with Caroline's scheme so easily, but she was so exhausted she would do almost anything to ensure she slept peacefully for the next twelve hours. She thanked her advisor demurely and walked towards the bathroom to see where Caroline had gone.

The public bathroom was empty. After a few minutes of further exploration, Harmony found that Caroline was neither waiting for her by the lift, nor sitting in the common lounge. Even knowing how exhausted Harmony was hadn't stopped Caroline from leaving without her. The irritation Harmony felt towards her friend turned to anger. Harmony went to the lift and pounded the indicator savagely. She knew she was being childish, but she was worn out and more annoyed than she could remember being for quite a while. Harmony stepped into the elevator.

The elevator was oddly slow in getting to the eleventh floor and Harmony worried that it would pause between floors and trap her. Much to her relief, the lift arrived safely on the eleventh floor and the doors chimed open to reveal a darkened corridor. She walked cautiously down the corridor and found Caroline and the two men talking quietly outside her room. Harmony seethed inwardly. It was incredibly hypocritical for Caroline to expect her to wait, when she wouldn't wait herself. Caroline looked unnaturally rigid, almost as though her lower body had been cast from wax. Harmony cast a shrewdly appraising look at the two men. They didn't look especially… anything. They were both handsome in a bland sort of way.

"I have the key," Harmony called and their conversation immediately ceased. Harmony felt pierced by the intense gazes the two men gave her and she hesitated for a moment before moving to stand beside her friend. The taller of the two men began to curse under his breath. Harmony cringed. Swearing was a vile habit and obviously one that this fellow practiced as an art.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't swear at me, thank you," Harmony said scornfully, turning to include the other young man in her lecture. "It's a fine way to treat someone who has just done you a favour." The sandy-haired man just stared at her, his mouth slightly agape, and his face devoid of all colour. She looked back at the taller man and if she hadn't known better, she could have sworn she saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harmony," Caroline said weakly, nodding her head slightly towards the entrance to the adjoining rooms they shared. "I think it would be best if you went inside. I have some things to discuss with these guys."

"Do you, now?" Harmony asked, pursing her lips and gazing suspiciously at her friend. Caroline had not moved from the neck down since Harmony arrived. Something was not right. "And I suppose the three of you were having a nice little chat before I arrived, correct?" Harmony asked sarcastically and was shocked when Caroline gave a small nod.

Harmony exhaled sharply in frustration, both angry and hurt at being shunned so obviously. She nodded stiffly and moved past the strange boys to enter her room. She slammed the door and threw herself down on her bed in a fit of irritation. She shifted slightly as something sharp cut into her hip. She took the spare key from her pocket and flung it onto the small desk that sat in the corner. They could wait in the corridor all night for all she cared, the irresponsible gits.

* * * * *

As Harmony closed her door, Harry released Caroline from the spell that had held her immobile. Not expecting so swift an action, she crumpled to the floor.

"How long have you known that she was alive?" Ron asked, his voice oddly harsh. He ran a hand through his hair, and Caroline noticed that his hands were shaking. Tears lined her cheeks as she raised herself to her feet. These two men had suffered so much heartache in their lives that it was a miracle that they continued to be human.

"I met her some time ago when I was sent here to secure a Muggle text that would aid research in my department." Caroline admitted, swiping at her eyes. Ron's cheeks, she noticed, were also damp with tears. Merlin knew how long she had wanted to tell them of Hermione's survival.

Harry stood very straight, and although his cheeks remained dry he gave off the air of someone profoundly lost. This discovery had likely broken all the emotional barriers he had erected in order to keep himself sane. Caroline wept for the two boys she had known all her life. They deserved nothing but happiness after the hell that they had been subjected to.

"You were under the Fidelius Charm. You couldn't tell anyone she was alive," Harry said in a toneless voice. "It's understandable that she would force you into a charm like that, after all. Hermione has always been thorough."

Caroline shook her head frowning. He didn't understand the situation at all if he thought that Hermione had been the one to cast the charm.

"Hermione is a Squib," Caroline said softly. "She didn't cast the charm, I did. And it wasn't a Fidelius Charm, it was something a little more… tailored." That charm was at once a blessing and a curse, Caroline thought ruefully. It was able to protect Hermione from those who were tracking her for malicious reasons, but it also had effectively cut her off from the Wizarding world.

"A Squib? What in..." Ron began, startled out of his melancholy.

"It has to do with her magical aura," Caroline said quietly. "She was hit with a curse during the final battle that not only stripped her of the ability to use her power, but also caused her to lose her memory." Harry nodded, his eyes glinting strangely.

"Don't you dare say that it was your fault, Potter!" Caroline barked and Harry jumped at her sudden change in emotions. Ron gave a very weak smile at his best friend's surprise.

"She definitely knows us better than she's letting on if she can read you like that, mate," Ron said hollowly, casting Caroline an appraising look. Harry scowled and Caroline could almost see the black mood descend on him.

"Well there are two things we can do now, I suppose," Caroline said, wanting to avoid an emotional outburst from the surprisingly fragile men in front of her. "Now that you know the secret, you can either let me Obliviate you, or we can continue on with our lives and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary has happened."

"There is no way in this universe that I am going to let you or anyone else Obliviate me!" Ron yelled and Caroline raised her hands in a submissive gesture.

"Alright. Proceed with option number two it is," Caroline said in an attempt to placate the tall man. "You only have to remember one thing," Caroline continued, her brow furrowing. "A single thoughtless reference to her past could cause her to become seriously ill. You can't tell Harmony anything to do with her past. She's still experiencing flashbacks of the spell that did this to her."

A strange noise came from the back of Ron's throat before he whispered, "I'll do anything." He looked away from Caroline with an anguished look plainly visible on his face. He absently twisted the simple golden band on his left ring finger.

"As soon as you two have finished your assignment here, I want you to leave," Caroline said, forcing her voice to be cold. As much as her heart longed for them to stay, now was not the right time for them to drop back into Harmony's life, or her own for that matter.

* * * * *

Harmony awoke the next day with a horrific pain in her head, which, of course, put her in a very foul mood. She didn't have the strength to fight with her obstinate hair and as a result, she looked horrendous. She couldn't find the energy to care about her appearance; she couldn't think of anything other than the throbbing ache behind her eyes.

Harmony forced herself to prepare for her early morning Chemistry session, but her heart wasn't in the chore. She packed up her bag rather carelessly and set off, stopping by the cafeteria on her way to grab a cup of tea. Perhaps the warm drink would soothe her head.

The day was gloomy and the fog that blanketed the university campus was unusually chilled. Harmony strode forward with the single-minded purpose of getting through the lab so that she could catch an hour of sleep between her lessons. Perhaps sleep would ease the infernal throbbing of her head, as the tea was proving to be useless.

The familiar pungent odour of various organic solvents reached her nose as she pushed into the chemistry building and deposited her now-empty cup in the bin just inside the door.

Harmony turned the corner and walked into the lab only to stop dead in her tracks. One of her obnoxious neighbours was standing in the back of the room, dressed in a pristine lab coat and looking as though he thought he belonged there. Harmony walked forward, frowning. She had been under the impression that new students would not be admitted into the lab after the second week of classes. It was now well into the second month of the new term.

Harmony shook her head and donned her own lab-coat that she had unearthed from her knapsack. It wasn't her business, after all, what that boy did.

The teacher's assistant who directed the laboratory session walked into the room and told everyone to take out their lab books. Harmony bent down to remove her book from her bag only to find her knapsack empty. She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to panic.

"Okay, this session is going to be challenging, so I'd like all of you to work in pairs. For simplicity's sake, I've assigned groups alphabetically. This means that you will be working with the person at the bench next to you."

Pairs? Harmony thought indignantly, fighting the urge to tear at her hair as she tied it back from her face with an elastic band. She didn't even remember the last time she had been forced to work in a group at Uni. Although she considered herself fairly laid-back, she always found it difficult to work closely with another student. It was utopian to think that the workload assigned would ever be divided equally even amongst the best students.

Harmony stalked to her position on the lab bench and, to her horror, found herself standing beside the filthy-mouthed, auburn-haired man. Harmony began to knead her forehead in a vain attempt to quell the mounting tension housed in her head.

"Hi." The attitude of the greeting was carefully controlled, falling on the warm side of neutral. The timbre of his voice, however, sounded odd to Harmony's ears, almost as though he was purposefully altering its pitch.

"Do you have the lab book?" Harmony asked testily, looking up from behind her fists. He nodded. Harmony scowled. His nose was much too short for the shape of his face and it made him look absurd.

"Good," she snapped and snatched it up from the counter top where he had gestured to the book.

"Look, I know we got off on.."

"Please!! I have a horrendous headache right now. I'd appreciate it if you didn't add to it by starting meaningless conversation!"

"I was just going to apolo…"

"I'll get the distillation apparatus set up and you can go and get the ether and the ethanol." Harmony turned her heel and walked away. This was going to be a very, very long day.

* * * * *

Gales of laugher greeted Caroline as she walked down the corridor to the room where she usually had her Latin lesson. Her curiosity piqued, she tried to push her way through the crowd of young women blocking the entrance to the classroom. The sound of the girls' coquettish giggling made Caroline wonder if she had mistakenly gone into the wrong building.

"Surely it didn't happen quite like that, James!" a familiar voice cooed, and Caroline felt a stone fall to the pit of her stomach. Elaine's smooth and strongly confident voice carried easily over the excited chatter of the other girls in the room. Caroline had never heard Elaine flirt in the entire time she had known her. The beautiful blond girl had always insisted she didn't have time for such superficial things. It couldn't be…

"It happened exactly like that!" Harry Potter's amused voice drifted to Caroline's ears, nearly drowned by the chorus of giggles that followed his statement.

That prat, Caroline thought venomously as a sharp knife of jealousy cut through her. He had all of the women in this class practically eating out of his hand!! She sighed in irritation. I'm past all of this, she told herself sternly.

Caroline pushed her way through the crowd and set her bag on the seat of an unclaimed desk before the conversation continued. "What did she do?" Elaine asked, and through the crowd, Caroline could see her rest a hand on Harry's lower arm. Caroline ruffled through the bag, taking out her Latin textbook and notepad.

"She actually tripped," he paused dramatically, "and managed to destroy her brother's wedding cake entirely!" The crowd erupted in laughter and something within Caroline snapped. She threw her textbook onto her desk with a resounding crack.

The room went silent. Caroline didn't think she had ever been more humiliated in her life. "That was awfully rude, Caroline," Elaine muttered softly. Her voice was just loud enough for the entire class to hear.

"Sorry," Caroline answered in a clipped voice. "It slipped out of my hands." It hadn't happened the way he was telling it at all! It had only been one layer of her brother's wedding cake, and it had been his unexpected presence in the room that had startled her into dropping the cake in the first place…

The professor walked into the room and everyone shuffled back to their seats. For once, Caroline was glad that she had got a seat in the back row. She was sure that if she had been sitting any closer to Potter she would have cursed him, even with the Muggle students present.

The class went by more slowly than any class Caroline had ever endured. Her mind kept on replaying the embarrassing tale that Harry recounted to the entire class. She had always thought that he was above ridiculing her for her feelings for him. After all, it had seemed that for a short time in his sixth year, he had liked her as well.

Caroline sighed, shaking her head angrily. She had always thought he was above humiliating her. This proved that she had been very, very wrong.

**A/N: ****Once again, I've decided to re-post this story since it seems to have disappeared from Checkmated where it was originally archived. I'd like to thank Shiiki for her editing and advice when I first wrote this. I've made some additional changes to this chapter, so any errors are my fault. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 3**

Harmony burst out of the chemistry lab three hours later, her hair forming a frazzled halo about her head. She heard the swinging door open behind her and she hoped desperately that _he_ was not following her. She just wanted to go back to her dormitory room and close her aching eyes.

The chemistry session had proved to be just as much of a hassle as she had feared it would be. Her lab partner had been _more_ than incompetent – he had been hopeless. His hands were so unsteady he had not only managed to spill a large amount of liquid solvent, he had also shattered an entire glass distillation apparatus. The laboratory director had actually come out from his office to chastise them both for the damage. Not only had her session partner earned Harmony a bad grade on their assignment, he had also earned her a dept to the chemistry department to replace the broken glassware. Her increasingly waspish temper had done nothing to help things, she reflected, but if he had just…

"Harmony, wait!" his voice was carried down the corridor, interrupting her thoughts.

"Why would I want to wait for you?" she huffed, sending him a scowl over her shoulder. "I don't know you, and frankly, I don't _want_ to know you."

Even from the corner of her eye Harmony could see him wince. Her conscience gave a small twinge. This small up-welling of remorse wasn't strong enough to override her overwhelming irritation, however.

"That was a wee bit harsh, don't you think?" hHer lab partner asked with a grimace as he caught up beside her. Harmony cursed her short legs for not being able to carry her away quickly enough to avoid this conversation. "After all, what did I do that was so bad?"

"Should I make it a chronological list?" she asked angrily but did not wait for a reply. "You are a horrendously rude and vile-mouthed…" Harmony sniffed, just barely restraining _herself_ from cursing. "I was doing you a favour last night and you threw it right back in my face!" Students in the corridor around them were beginning to watch the increasingly heated row with interest. Harmony ignored them.

"It wasn't easy talking the people at the front desk into giving me the spare key to your room…" Harmony was interrupted by a burst of laughter from their onlookers. She flushed when she noticed their knowing looks, realiszing only belatedly that the argument could easily be misinterpreted as a lover's quarrel or a failed attempt at seduction. She was at a loss as to why she felt obligated to start an argument with this man. She burst from the Chemistry building and out of the crowd in an attempt to save-face, but her partner continued to follow her.

"Well, how could you expect me to know that you were trying to do me a favour?" he yelled back, the tips of his ears reddening. He shot her another of his unreadable but very intense looks and just as suddenly as Harmony's head-ache had descended it evaporated. Harmony stopped where she stood and turned to face the man beside her. He fidgeted under her gaze, and she felt her irritation towards him diminish. He looked so eager to patch things up between them. How could she remain angry when he looked at her with such an earnest expression?

"I suppose you couldn't be expected to read my mind." she conceded, concerned that she was going soft in the head. She had felt a wave of inexplicable affection for the jerk when he had yelled at her. Surely she was going mad.

"I… uh…" he stuttered, faltering at her lightning-shift in mood. Harmony almost sniggered as she saw an expression of surprise and relief filter across his face. "I… uh… it doesn't matter. I'm sorry we got off to such a bad start."

"Right," she said in a lofty tone that was tempered by a genuine smile. "Well, we better hurry if we're going to get to the cafeteria before the lunch rush," she said, setting off across campus at a rather brisk pace. Her companion's face shot up and he grinned at her unexpectedly.

"I..." He faltered, a strangely soft expression flitting across his face. "Of course,." hHe replied, after clearing his throat. It was only after his response that Harmony realiszed that she had assumed he was going to eat lunch with her. And for some reason it felt like a natural assumption for her to have made.

*****

Harry quickly slipped out of the Latin classroom before the rather aggressive girls had a chance to descend on him once more. He supposed the Aattraction cCharm he had cast upon them had been a little too strong, but it would wear off soon enough. His plan had gone well, he reflected with a small smile and a twinge of guilt. 'Caroline' had revealed herself, just as he had expected her to. No Weasley he had ever known could take ridicule without exposing a flash of their infamous temper. He just wished he hadn't been forced to behave like a perfect arse to get to the truth.

She turned sharply and exited the building, her long dark hair fanning behind her. Harry had to admit to himself that she had done an exceptional job at concealing herself for so long. The Gglaimour she wore hid every single one of her distinguishing features, even her height. If it hadn't been for her voice and manner, he might not have recogniszed her at all.

He followed a few paces behind her as they traveled down the crowded streets of the university's campus. Her blue bag hung at her hip and tugged her long green coat slightly askew as she strode purposefully down the road. She made another sharp turn in her route and proceeded down a narrow tree-lined path between two buildings. Now would be the perfect time, Harry thought, looking about the deserted path before he let his disguise fade. He disappeared with a soft pop.

She turned quickly at the noise, only to hear someone Aapparate directly in front of her. She jumped and spun again to find herself face-to-face with Harry. She barely managed to swallow a shriek of surprise.

"You are a jack-ass, Harry Potter!!" Sshe said breathlessly, a smattering of freckles jumping across the bridge of her nose. Harry stifled a smile.

"Your renowned acting skills seem to be failing you today, Ginevra." Her eyes resembled saucers and her gGlaimour slipped entirely. A rather petite red-headed woman faced Harry. Her usually pale and freckled face was unnaturally pink from anger and fresh air. Her features had changed from the softly childish countenance he remembered; her face was longer and more womanly. As she looked at him her brown eyes seemed to spark with an inner light that he hadn't seen since the day of the last battle.

Inadvertently, his eyes were drawn to her full lips and immediately the power that had had lain dormant inside him for the last few years flared unexpectedly to life. Harry's eyes widened in surprise and abruptly he felt like throwing up. He had to be very careful around her, he thought severely, setting his jaw in determination. If he let his control slip in the slightest there was no telling what trouble he might inadvertently cause from accidental magic alone. His skin tingled at the sheer volume of magic he could feel flowing through his body.

"You just played me didn't you?!" she yelled, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she realiszed the reason he had been regaling her Latin class with an enormously exaggerated story. Harry smiled slightly despite his tension; Ginny had always been quick.

"Sorry about that." Harry apologizsed softly. He had done the very thing he had once vowed to himself he would never do - he had used her feelings for him against her. Ginny's face became a bright tomato-red.

"Yes, you will be sorry, you manipulative prick!" Ginny yelled, stalking forward menacingly, and jabbing her fingers into his chest. "Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was?!" She shoved him and Harry stumbled backwards, startled. "How would you like it if I went around telling everyone about embarrassing things you did when you were sixteen years old?!"

Harry smiled wryly as he felt his back encounter the brick wall of a building. "Anything I've done that is remotely embarrassing is already in print. Besides, you would never have told me who you really were if I hadn't made you angry enough to forget yourself. As an aAuror I needed to know your identity."

"Bloody hell! Of course I wouldn't have told you who I was! Do you think I want you and my brother to hate me for keeping things from you?!" Ginny's anger was fading. "But that's beside the point. I had no choice in the matter. The Charm…" she trailed off, looking tortured. Harry was struck by how vulnerable the woman before him really was, behind her façade of passionate temper.

"We could never hate you." Harry said quietly, grabbing the hand that was still pressed against his chest. "We do have some things that we need to know, however." Ginny shook her head, her long hair flashing a brilliant copper in the late autumn sun that filtered through the underbrush of the garden-lined path. "You know that we wouldn't be sent here for a holiday, Ginny. Ron and I are on assignment. There are dangerous things happening…"

"I can't tell you any more than I already have," she said resolutely.

Harry frowned in irritation. "But Ginny, Mmuggles are disappearing…"

"I can't help you, Harry." Ginny said firmly, pulling her hand from his grasp and once more donning her Gglaimour. "Don't let Ron bother Harmony. Remind him that contact with her could do more harm than good." She turned and walked away, the heels on her shoes clicking dully on the stone path.

Harry watched her go, frustration overwhelming him. So this was how things were going to be? He winced as he heard the explosive tinkle of shattering glass from four near-by streetlights. Likely all the glass in the area had been damaged by that simple wave of annoyance.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to collect himself. His hand shook as he ran it through his unkempt black hair. This was going to be a real problem, he though grimly, trying unsuccessfully to push the energy surrounding himself away.

Ginny didn't look back, but Harry could still feel the warm pressure of her hand on his chest. He closed his eyes, and sighed, leaning back against the wall and allowed the memories that had been plaguing him throughout their exchange to bubble to the surface.

"_**If you die today, Harry, I swear I'll bring you back and kill you again!" Ginny yelled, pulling him into a sheltered alcove in the maze-like **__**corridor of the Mministry building where the aAurors based their headquarters. They had been on their way to the meeting room to prepare for what would become Harry's final confrontation with Voldemort and his followers. As Harry looked down at her, he felt a twinge of something long- suppressed flutter in the pit of his stomach. She looked formidable with her brown eyes glittering and her jaw set stubbornly like that. Merlin, he missed her.**_

_** "I reckon that would make Voldemort's day." Harry forced his sarcastic reply, looking away from her. She was beginning to cry. He keenly felt the pressure of the world on his shoulders. **__**'For neither can live while the other survives…'**_

_** Dumbledore had died to give him this chance**__**, and Harry could not let anything distract him from his purpose. But since the very beginning of his hunt for the Horcruxes, Ginny had never been far from his mind. Saving her life in the Chamber of Secrets had started Harry's journey to the confrontation with Voldemort. The diary had been the first Horcrux he had destroyed, after all. Harry stared at the wall, acutely aware that this might be the last time he spoke to her. There was so much left unfinished between them.**_

"_**I mean it, Harry**__**,." she said softly, her small hand turning his face back towards hers. His heart raced. Her simple gesture somehow seemed uncomfortably private. He looked down at her and became painfully aware of how good she had been to him.**_

_**Ginny had always been brave, and loyal, even when he overlooked her entirely. She was smart, funny, and tolerant of his mistakes despite being one of the few people who was not afraid to tell him off when he became too cantankerous. **__**Around Ginny, Harry felt different; he felt normal.**_

"_**I'll try my best, Ginny." Harry heard himself saying in a rather gruff voice.**_

"_**You'd better!" she **__**said coolly before she sniffed, wiping her eyes on a long sleeve of her black robe. The hand that had caressed his cheek had somehow found its way to his shoulder. "I don't want to have to dabble in the dDark aArts so that I can kill you again.," sShe laughed harshly. There was a moment of tense silence between them before Ginny took a deep breath and seemed about to say something. Harry jolted in surprise when instead of speaking she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.**_

_**Ginny's kiss blatantly crossed the barrier Harry had **__**fashioned between them at the end of his sixth year and created a deliciously sweet sense of relief within him. Merlin, how he loved her! Her lips were warm as they moved against his, but he could feel the fear and desperation that lay bottled inside her. **_

_**His arms encircled her petite frame, and she shivered slightly as his hands came to rest rather tentatively on her hips. **__**After denying himself her love for so long, Harry was almost afraid that if he moved she would disappear.**_

_**After mere seconds she broke away from him, leaving Harry feeling oddly bereft and rather dizzy.**__** As he looked into her eyes, Harry felt a strangely warm energy explode into existence in the pit of his stomach. His brow furrowed at the abrupt feeling of power that washed through his limbs. Ginny looked away abruptly, misunderstanding the reason for the discomfort so clearly displayed on his face. He felt very strange.**_

"_**I'm sorry… I…" she whispered softly, looking at the stone floor and biting her lower lip, leaving Harry strangely transfixed. "I shouldn't have done that." Ginny looked away, guilt**__** and pain written plainly across her features. "I just thought…" she trailed off, but Harry couldn't find his voice to protest.**_

"_**I've ruined things**__**, haven't I? I waited too long." Ginny whispered, looking up at last. Harry was drowning; it was as through she had stolen his ability to breathe in the few short seconds of contact. He cleared his throat, but found himself still unable to deny her words. He was the one who had waited too long. He couldn't live without her any more than he could live without air.**_

_**Ginny nodded in a resigned fashion giving him a brief squeeze.**__** "Be careful," she said, her voice thick as she untangled herself from his embrace. Harry nodded. "I'll see you after you've won," she said with a forced smile as she departed from the alcove and walked briskly down the hallway and back towards the meeting room where the rest of her family, the New Order of the Phoenix and the aAurors were likely waiting for them.**_

_**Harry leaned his head back against the cool stone of the wall and took a deep breath.**__** Love really **_**had**_** unlocked unfathomable power inside him. After the battle he would find her, Harry vowed to himself, but for now he would survive on that single kiss.**_

*****

As Harmony and her auburn-haired companion sat down to lunch, she was struck suddenly by how unusual she felt. It wasn't unusual-bad per se as it was just that she felt _different_. Harmony took a bite of her sandwich and thought for a moment before deciding to engage in conversation. Perhaps a discussion would take her mind off of the unfounded emotions she felt churning within her.

"I don't think you've told me your name." Harmony said, and the auburn-haired man looked up at her in surprise.

"Eehm Jophm," he replied through a revoltingly large mouthful of his own sandwich. Harmony's nose wrinkled at the display of poor table-manners and he smiled sheepishly in response. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm John."

Harmony scowled. There was something off about his name. Harmony shook her head, wondering why exactly she was bothered by strange things like the shape of his nose and the sound of his name. He seemed so familiar, and yet…

Harmony felt something cold grip her abdomen as a situation she had never considered occurred to her. What if she had known him? He had behaved rather oddly when they had met in the corridor the day before. What if he had known her before she had lost her memory? Did he know about her child?

"You…" she stuttered. "I…" The thing in her stomach turned over and she began to feel light-headed. "You're not John." she said, surprising herself, but knowing at once that this was the truth. He put down his glass of juice and looked at her through veiled eyes.

"My name is John." he repeated, his voice monotonous and his face paling.

"No,." Harmony said, rising to her feet. "Your name is not John," she said with conviction, her headache blazing back to life. She winced at both the pain and fear she saw flicker behind his steady gaze. She wondered if she was going crazy.

"I… Your name… it's not right!" She shook her head rather frantically, her hair brushing her shoulders. "Your name, it just doesn't fit! It's just like your nose, and your hair!" sShe cried, the blue pricks of light coming ever closer to consuming her vision. "Everything is so wrong!" Tears sprang to her eyes. Her reasoning sounded fanatical even to her own ears. "I just want to remember!"

"My name is John, and my hair and nose are as they have always been!" he said forcefully, also raising to his feet. "Sit down, Harmony, people are staring," he said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Harmony shrugged away the contact and began to sob. For some reason his words stung even though she knew he was being reasonable.

His true name hung just behind the blinding blue light, and Harmony knew that if she didn't catch it now she would regret it for the rest of her life. She took a deep shuddering breath and surrendered herself to the madness that was threatening to swallow her.

"Ron!"

Harmony's world exploded.

*****

A sharp pop emanated from the center of a darkened room. The woman who had been sitting at a small desk near a corner looked up in surprise at the sudden noise. A young man with bone-white hair stood behind her. The large greedy smile on his face unnerved even someone like her.

"She's finally succumbed to the curse," he said in a soft and oily voice. "It is finally time for the final stage in our plan." He smiled wickedly at her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Her guardian revealed herself today at last," tThe woman said sonorously, brushing away his hand and standing up to face him. "And you would never guess who cracked her disguise." She snickered.

"Do tell, my darling," he said, a dark delight shining from the depths of his eyes.

"The great Harry Potter," she said, laughing, "has always been able to get under the Weasel's skin."

*****

Ginny was horribly distracted. Her classes were interesting and useful for her research, but thoughts of her past continued to hound her mind. Her classes had just finished for the day, however she was quite sure that she had not absorbed a single word her professors had said.

The encounter with Harry had badly unsettled her. The fact that she had revealed her identity for the world to see just because she had seen _him_ chaffed at her mind. She was stronger than that, she told herself sternly. She couldn't afford to fall apart around him again. For all she knew the Neo- Death Eaters had already discovered her alias, and no good could possibly come from that. She knew she had been playing a very dangerous game. A game where not only her own safety, but that of others balanced precariously on the line.

Just as she arrived outside the dormitory cafeteria, a wave of magic so strong it left her breathless passed through her. The hair on her arms stood on end at the sheer volume of power that had just been released.

Someone had triggered the curse.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, terror gripping her. She ran with all the strength she had, drawing her wand and tracing the spell as she went. It wasn't very difficult to find the location as there was a mob of students fleeing the cafeteria. She would deal with the Mmuggles latter;, right now she had to focus on damage control.

Ginny burst into the cafeteria to find it totally empty, save one figure lying prone on the carpeted floor. A dry sob escaped her throat as she knelt beside the body of her older brother. It looked as through her worst fear had come to pass. Gruesome visions of the second war sliced through her mind.

She shifted as she heard approaching footsteps echo through the empty dining hall. This was it, she thought, feeling strangely detached. She rose to her feet, her knuckles turning white at the pressure with which she grasped her wand. She would have to kill him if he gave her the chance, it was the only way everyone could possibly survive.

"Stay where you are!" A masculine voice ordered from behind and her heart turned over in her chest. She didn't think she had ever loved the sound of his voice more than at that instant.

"You're too late, Harry." she said, turning to face him. "She's gone."

**A/N: I'd like to thank Shiiki for her editing and advice when I first wrote this. I've made some additional changes to this chapter, so any errors are my fault. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 4**

The sight that greeted Harry as he ran into the empty cafeteria was exactly the one he feared. A tall woman with long dark hair knelt beside Ron's prone form, a wand clutched tightly in her hand. Before he had even given it a second thought he was clutching his own wand and dozens of painful curses were on the tip of his tongue. Harry struggled to keep his power from overwhelming him. His wand began to spit silent orange sparks.

"Stay where you are!" he yelled, worry for his partner fuelling the anger he felt boiling inside him. He wouldn't allow Ron to be taken from him as well! He had seen far too many of the people he cared for killed before his eyes. The air shivered with energy and to his left an apple in a cafeteria display case exploded, covering the glass with pulp.

"You're too late, Harry. She's gone." Harry started at the sound of Ginny's familiar voice. The powerfully angry energy receded, but still refused to dissipate. If Ginny seemed to trigger the fluctuations in his power, perhaps she could make it go away, Harry wondered before the seriousness of the situation drove other thoughts to the forefront of his mind.

"What did you…"

"I didn't do anything, Harry!" she yelled, her voice fracturing with emotion. "Hermione's curse was reactivated." She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes burning with a hopeless frustration that was all too familiar to Harry. She abruptly turned from him and knelt at her brother's side. "Help me," she ordered and Harry walked towards her cautiously. "Faster!" she barked and he complied. Her hands were shaking.

"What are you..."

"We have no time for this now," Ginny said, nodding towards her brother. "We have get him out of here without using magic. The reverberation of the curse will be amplified if we use magic. The spell has been dormant and gathering energy for over three years. Judging from the strength of the curse's echo, its reverberation is bound to be powerful enough to kill us. Abandon your Glamour. We can't afford to continue casting pointless spells." Harry watched as the darkness of Ginny's hair flamed red once more before he let the similar spell slide from his own face.

An odd low humming noise rumbled to life as they awkwardly shifted Ron's tall form into a sitting position. A strange pulling sensation seated itself in the pit of Harry's stomach, making him pause momentarily. "We have to hurry," Ginny pleaded as they stood, balancing Ron's weight between them. They haltingly dragged Ron out of the cafeteria and into the back garden of the dormitory. They moved as fast as they were able, but Ron's slack weight in combination with his height made the progress slow and awkward. Harry gripped Ron's slack arm tightly where it was braced around his shoulder. He could tell that Ginny was having a little more trouble bearing her brother's weight.

"Stop. This is stupid," Harry snapped, halting their jolting progress. "Let me take him," Harry explained when Ginny opened her mouth to protest. "If you can get him on my back I can carry him. It will be faster." Ginny nodded and with a small grunt of effort she had hoisted Ron onto Harry's back. Harry felt a deep seated unease gnaw at his gut. The deep rumble was steadily increasing in volume. Nothing that sounded like that could possibly be pleasant.

"This way," Ginny said, and took off running through the manicured lawn and carefully placed flower beds. Harry followed breathlessly as she lead him through the garden and then down the side of a Muggle street. The street, unlike the cafeteria, was rather busy and the other pedestrians stared and pointed at them as they passed.

"Where are we going?" Harry demanded, annoyance and worry provoking his temper. "Don't you think that people are going to wonder why exactly we're running down the middle of the street with an unconscious man? What's going on?"

"Save your breath, Harry," Ginny growled at him, shooting a sharp look at him over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion and her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. "We have a way to go yet."

"Why the hell…"

"Didn't you ever take NEWT level Charms?" Ginny asked in exasperation. "Trust me, Harry. We need to get our of here _now_. I'll explain things later."

He fell silent. Ron's weight seemed to be increasing with each step he took. The effort of holding his friend's arms securely around his shoulders was becoming almost unbearable, but now was not a time to think of his aching muscles. Ginny cast a look at him over her shoulder and then turned abruptly onto a small path that branched from the road. Harry could now feel the vibration with every step he took.

The old brick buildings towered above their heads and after a few turns they were completely hidden from the view of the street. The buildings surrounded them on three sides, creating a small courtyard in the small alcove between them. Harry frowned in distaste as he looked about the grey asphalt corridor. There was garbage everywhere. Discarded paper and food wrappers stuck to the concrete like detritus. Pieces of scrap metal were strewn like bones across the ground

"Over here," Ginny called from beside a large and badly dented rubbish bin that dominated one corner of the small and filthy space. A vaguely painful buzzing sensation began to travel through him, climbing from the tips of his toes.

Harry approached cautiously, taking care not to trip over the twisted bits of metal. He knew that if he fell now, he wouldn't have the strength to drag Ron any further. The pain now resonating through him was becoming too strong to ignore. When he arrived beside her she indicated to a broken brick that was slightly more inset in the wall than the others.

"It's a Portkey," she explained through a tight grimace. "We can use it to escape because it doesn't require a direct magical focus to be activated." She took hold of her brother's limp arm and nodded at Harry. They touched the brick simultaneously and were drawn away from the dodgy back alley by the tugging pressure just behind their navels.

Harry opened his eyes, but could see nothing but blackness. The horrible jarring pain had evaporated almost completely, leaving only a dull ache in his joints. The excessive power that had been plaguing him since that morning seemed to have diminished slightly, Harry realised with a vague sense of relief.

"Where are we?" he asked, squinting into the gloomy darkness. The room smelled damp and earthy and Harry was distantly reminded of the Chamber of Secrets that lay beneath Hogwarts.

"We're in a cave," Ginny replied dryly, shuffling about a few metres away from him. Harry rolled his eyes. He heaved Ron up on his shoulders and managed to crack both of their heads on the low ceiling. Harry swore under his breath.

"So, what now?" he asked, not quite managing to keep the edge from his voice. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, but first and foremost he wanted to heave Ron onto the floor. His shoulders burned at having to support someone who was quite a bit heavier than he was for such a long time.

"We wait," Ginny replied, and the shuffling ceased. "Make yourself comfortable," she said in a rather ironic tone. Harry, with some difficulty, managed to lay Ron on the floor. He settled himself a short distance from his friend and squinted vainly into the almost tangible darkness.

"I don't suppose I can cast a '_Lumos'_ now?" Harry asked, feeling rather irritated by Ginny's non-forthcoming responses.

"It's best if you don't cast any spells before Ron wakes up." Ginny replied. "We did just get out of a rather strong reverberation zone. There may or may not be side effects."

"Reverberation zone?" Harry demanded. It was as though she was purposefully talking in code. What was going on? Who had taken Hermione? Why was Ron unconscious?

"Do you remember _anything_ from NEWT level charms, Harry?" Ginny snapped from across the chamber though he could tell her heart wasn't in it. Her exhausted voice was muffled, as though she were resting her head in her hands. Harry cast his thoughts back to his seventh year at Hogwarts and found that he couldn't remember much more than his increasing need to find the Horcruxes.

"I can't honestly say I put a lot of effort into most of my NEWT classes," Harry admitted, and he heard Ginny snort. Harry suppressed the need to justify himself. Ginny should _know_ he had been concentrating on more important things than grades in his seventh year.

"Okay, let's start at the beginning, then…" Ginny trailed off, likely rallying her thoughts. "The curse effecting Hermione was a dormant spell – . This means that it was unable to fulfill its purpose due to an instability in its inner machinery.–'' Whoever was casting the spell was probably unable to provide everything the spell needed to reach its conclusion."

"So it was unfinished?" Harry asked, thinking how strange it was to be getting a lesson in spell theory from Ginny. It had always been Hermione who had provided him information in this way. Merlin, he hoped they would be able to help her!

"Right. As far as I can tell, the spell was unfinished. I've worked out that there was a ritualistic portion of the spell, but I still seem to be missing something…" she sighed in frustration, and shifted again in the darkness. "But, back to the explanation. When a dormant spell is triggered, it creates an echo and a reverberation." Ginny was silent for a moment, and Harry wondered if she assumed he knew what an echo and a reverberation were. He opened his mouth to question her, but then she spoke once more. "Do you know how a Pportkey works?"

"No, actually,." hHe admitted, feeling rather surprised at her question. He knew how to create a Pportkey, but it had never occurred to him to wonder how it functioned.

"A Pportkey is a dormant transportation spell – it is cast before it is used. When a witch or wizard touches a Pportkey it triggers the echo and reverberation. It's the echo and reverberation that carry the witch or wizard to their destination."

"The echo is the initial release of magical energy that has been gathered over time by the dormant spell. In the case of a Pportkey it causes the pulling sensation behind the navel. The echo of Hermione's dormant curse was large enough to induce magical shock – I think that's why Ron is unconscious."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Ron would be alright. He barely had time to process this information before Ginny launched back into her explanation.

"The reverberation of a dormant spell carries out the original intent of the spell only on a wider focus. The climax of the reverberation will be reached more quickly if wizards directly channel their power after a dormant spell has been triggered. That's why we had to stop casting our disguises and why we couldn't aApparate away from the campus. We had to get out of the expanded focus of Hermione's curse without directly channelling magic. In a Pportkey, the extended focus of the reverberation is what allows the witch or wizard to be transported to a destination along with the shoe that became the pPortkey in the first place."

Another brief moment of silence passedt. Ginny's continued fidgeting was making him uneasy. "The rest of what I tell you is based mostly on research and guesswork." There was a tense pausesilence in which Ginny seemed to attempt to prepare herself for what she had to say. "The spell that hit Hermione during the final battle was, as far as I can tell, one that had been specifically designed to kill you."

Harry recoiled as though he had been stuck. A sickening wave of guilt rose in his chest. Of course it was his fault. He always seemed to be at the root of his friends' pain. He laughed hollowly for a moment before he found his voice. "So, this is all my fault."

"Don't you _dare_ say that, Harry." Ginny said hotly. "All of this is the fault of the Death Eater who cast the curse in the first place. Besides, Hermione was able to take the curse and survive it. You would have been killed. The spell is only immediately lethal to wizards, not witches."

Harry rubbed his face vigorously before he asked "Immediately lethal?"

"As far as I can tell, the curse is designed to separate a wizard from his magical aura. You see, the form a witch's power takes is subtly different from that of a wizard. Because, as far as I can tell, the spell was was tailored to a male magical signature it only partially aeffected Hermione. As far as I can tell'''variation, I think that's why the spell wasn't immediately lethal to her. When Hermione was hit with the curse, she was separated from her magic, however it was not harvested. Her energy clung to her body even though it was no longer fully connected to her. I believe this is what has kept her safe for so long. But now that her curse has been reactivated, her magic can be removed–'''… . If Hermione's magical aura is harvested she will be sent into a magically induced coma and she will eventually die." Harry nodded slowly. "But if the spell had hit _you_, all your magic would have been severed and harvested immediately and you would have died."

"There's just one thing I don't understand,." Harry said, beginning to feel raw at Ginny's constant barrage of information. "Why did the dDeath eEaters bother with this curse when a killing curse would be so much more convenient?"

"Once a wizard's power is harvested, it can be absorbed by another." Distaste coloured Ginny's words and Harry suddenly felt queasy. Who knows what would have happened if Voldemort had gotten his hands on Harry's magical energy.

"It's a very good thing we got away from the Uni before the reverberation reached its peak or we would have been stripped of our magic as well."

"Just because of the reverberation?"

"Yeah. The focus of the spell had expanded quite a bit. Likely the entire campus was affected."

"Will the Muggles feel anything?"

"No. They felt the echo because it went off like a bomb – with a bright flash and a loud noise. They wouldn't feel the reverberation because they don't possess magical auras."

"Well, at least none of the Muggles will be hurt," Harry replied with a shiver. His joints ached with the remembered pain of the rising reverberation. He had no doubt that the curse would be excruciating. As this thought formed he was once again struck by a strong wave of guilt. Hermione had suffered this pain because of him.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to stave off his growing sense of disquiet. "So, what about Hermione?" he asked. "What do we do now?" He couldn't let her down again, Harry thought fiercely.

"There's nothing we can do for her until the backlash of the spell fully dissipates and Ron wakes up." Ginny said softly into the darkness. "I just hope that by that time it's not too late."

* * * * *****

A substantial fog enveloped her, depositing dew on her cheeks and hair. The cold dampness of it seemed to penetrate her entire being. She felt as though someone had attempted to crush her skull but had abandoned the job half-finished. Her throat was painfully dry and her eyelids were too heavy to lift.

A buzzing sound hummed in the distance, growing louder as time passed and steadily drawing her back to herself. The noise pricked her. She gave a weak sigh and shifted the position of her neck. She ached everywhere. At last her eyes obeyed her and she blinked her vision clear.

What had happened, she asked herself, carefully checking to see that all of her appendages functioned properly. Her toes wriggled and her hands were able to make fists. She was inordinately relieved. Blades of grass tickled her cheek as she lay still on the ground. The buzzing noise slowly resolved itself into voices. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew one of the voices much better than she would have liked.

_**She breathed in the acrid smell of burning flesh and retched, her mind whirling in a disorderly panic. There were dead, she reali**__**sed in horror. People she had known most of her life were now lying motionless at her sides. The explosion had knocked her off her feet and now she lay on the grass looking into the now eternally vacant eyes of Luna Lovegood….**_

The remembered scent of blood and fire assaulted her nostrils and she retched. She closed her eyes tightly as she could, but the horrific sights and smells of her memory would not be blocked out.

_**Her mouth was open, and she realised she was speaking. "Please, no. Please, no. Please, no." Words tumbled from her mouth in a voice she scarcely recognised. She looked up, sensing movement only a short distance away. The battle continued to rage around the parameter of the explosion. It took her a moment to see the person approaching slowly, carefully. Dressed in grey, cowled robes that didn't quite hide his white-blond hair, there was no mistaking the figure of Draco Malfoy…**_

"Are you sure the curse didn't kill her?" a calm feminine voice asked quietly. The woman was standing just a few feet away.

"The Mudblood doesn't have the darkness in her that Potter does. I doubt it would kill her, unless of course, she wanted to die." Draco Malfoy's arrogant voice assaulted her ears. Hermione flinched, a cold panic closing about her throat. She had lived through that horrible moment, she told herself logically, but the fear clung to her.

_**As though choreographed, a break appeared in the fighting. Harry stood confidently, his back facing her. Voldemort loomed before him, his tall serpentine form emanating power and boundless hatred. He nodded, a malicious grin spreading across his inhuman face. Draco raised his arm and the world became painfully clear to Hermione. Powered by desperation and terror, she stumbled to her feet.**_

"_**Seco substantia et colligo**__**!" Draco whispered, and the air shivered. With a feral cry, Hermione launched herself in the path of the spell. Thoughts of Ron and Harry flashed through her mind the moment before the spell struck her.**_

_** She had no regrets…**_

Tears began to leak from her eyes as the partitions her mind had built to protect itself crumbled. The blue light was finally gone. She could remember everything. A choked sob escaped her throat and she knew she had given herself away.

"Looks like she survived after all," the woman said rather disinterestedly. Draco did not reply, but Hermione could almost hear him sneer at her.

"Does it hurt, Mudblood?" he laughed, walking over and kneeling beside her face. Anger stronger than any she had ever felt coursed through her. She opened her eyes and glared as fiercely as she could while remaining prone on the ground. She was completely at his mercy, and unfortunately they were both aware of this fact. "Does it hurt?" he asked once more. The malicious glint in his eye chilled her. "I imagine it does," Draco drawled, casually reaching for a fistful of her hair. He pulled her into a sitting position and a piercing scream was torn from her lips.

"Stop toying with her Draco, it's obscene," the woman said, irritation dripping from her eerily familiar voice. "We don't have the time for foolish vendettas."

"We have a few hours, certainly. It's more than enough time for us to finish the ceremony."

"Let's get it over with first. Do what you like with her later." Draco's eyes narrowed, but he released Hermione's hair. She crumpled to the ground, her breath coming in sickened gulps. She didn't think she could possibly hate anyone with such ferocity as she hated Draco Malfoy.

* * * * *****

Ginny stared into the gloom of the chamber, trying not to let fear dominate her mind. She knew that Ron would be alright when he woke up, but Hermione's fate was much more uncertain. She didn't know what the Neo-Death Eaters had in store for her friend, only that they had been carefully planning the situation for some time. The seemingly unrelated disappearances of Muggle students over the last few weeks had positively shrieked of Neo-Death Eater activity.

Harry had been silent for quite a while and Ginny felt her thoughts drift towards the past. Even after all this time she still felt painfully awkward around him. Old habits are difficult to break, she reflected with a rather sour twinge in her chest. If Ginny was brutally honest with herself, their last kiss had been one of the many reasons she had accepted the position in the Department of Mysteries when it had been offered to her just weeks after the final stand against Lord Voldemort. Her broken relationship with Harry had just been one more thing she had wanted to escape. The idea that Harry did not reciprocate her feelings had not been new to her, but it still had cut her deeply when her insecurities had been realised. She shivered in rememberanceremembrance of the undisguised discomfort and revulsion that had played across Harry's face that night in the basement of the Ministry.

Harry and her brother hadn't been released from St. Mungo's at the time, and the rest of her family had been under too much emotional strain to really protest against Ginny's decision to leave. Hermione was missing and likely dead. Her father and her brothers Percy, Charlie and George were dead. Ron was in the hospital recovering from an assault that should have killed him. She had wanted to run away from her life. Ginny had been so adamant in her decision that not even her mother had the energy to fight against Ginny's single-minded determination.

She had regretted her choice at first when she had discovered the extent of the isolation she would be forced to endure in the name of her job. Because she was such a 'high profile' employee, she was forced to break contact with her family and remaining friends. Unspeakables were called Unspeakables for a reason, after all.

For the first few months Ginny had lived a dreary and horribly lonely existence, nearly losing herself in her grief. That is, she had been lonely until she was sent to a Muggle university to secure a text that would help her department's research. Ginny had nearly collapsed in surprise when while walking across the university campus her sister-in-law had passed her without the slightest sign of recognition.

Ginny had rushed back to the Ministry with the news that Hermione had not been killed in battle as everyone had been led to believe. It was this discovery which had led to her next few years of research. It had been horribly difficult to discover what exactly had happened to Hermione during the battle, but slowly the pieces had come together.

Ginny had been able to pinpoint the ancient and highly unpredictable curse that had suppressed both her friend's magic and memory just six months ago, a full three years after the spell had been cast originally. Ginny shivered at thein remembrancememory of the faint magical signatures and residues she had been forced to sift through in her investigation of the old battlefield. During the last battle, enough Dark Magic had been channelled to contaminate the fighting area for the next century.

Three months ago things really began coming together for Ginny. She had made a breakthrough in the analysis of the curse and she couldn't help but hope that soon she would be able to restore Hermione to her old life.

Then the Muggle disappearances had begun. Ginny had suspected that the same group of Neo-Death Eaters that had been tracking Hermione over the past few months had been responsible. Harry and Ron's appearances had now confirmed her fears.

Ginny was very grateful she had had the foresight to set up an emergency portkey out of the University grounds. If she had not set up the portkey, Harry, Ron and herself would now likely be dead from the strength of the curse's reverberation. She had chosen the portkey's destination very carefully. The destination needed to be a safe place well outside the range of the curse's reverberation.

During a routine geography assignment Ginny had discovered a map of the campus area that included, much to her surprise, an archaeological Monolithic site. The map had documented not only a stone circle, but a network of caves as well.

Ginny was painfully aware that her ability to help Hermione rested in the assumption that the Neo-Death Eaters had also discovered the existence of the monoliths. She would have drastically overestimated the group if they did not make use of this natural site to enhance the power of the curse ritual.

A piteous groan emanating from the center of the darkened chamber pulled Ginny from her thoughts. A wave of tangible relief washed through her. Ron was finally waking up.

"Harry?"

"Right here, mate," his hushed voice cut through the darkness. "Are you feeling alright?"

Another groan was followed by the sound of rustling movement. "What the hell happened? I feel like..." He moaned again. "Words can't describe how horrible I feel." A thin strand of humour had found its way into Ron's voice despite his words. Ginny smiled, feeling her eyes grow rather damp. She had been more worried about her brother than she had initially thought.

"Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed, flushing at her feminine display of emotion. She was really crying now.

"Gin?" he asked, confusion now colouring his voice.

"Oh, so you recognise my voice now, do you?" she laughed, her chest feeling oddly tight. She harshly brushed the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

"_Lumos_," Harry intoned and his wand cast a thin ray of light into the gloom of the cavern. Ginny cringed, feeling rather exposed. Despite the serious situation, Ginny couldn't help wishing she had the illusive ability to look beautiful while she cried. As it was, she suspected Harry would find it difficult to distinguish her from a Hag.

"What are you doing here, Ginny?" Ron asked, one hand pressed against his forehead. "What's going on? You shouldn't be here."

"I'm helping you find your wife," Ginny forced herself to say despite the irritation that was blooming rapidly inside her. The statement captured her brother's attention, just as she had anticipated. "We don't have much time now; we have to get out of the cave."

"Ginny…" Harry began, sounding oddly hesitant. She shook her head in indignation, anticipating what he would say next. "I don't think it's a very good idea…"

"You can stay in the cave if you'd like, Harry." Ginny said sweetly, a small part of her relishing his look of outrage. "I'm sure Ron and I will be able to handle anything the Neo-Death Eaters have in store for us."

"Ginny," Harry said tightly and she suppressed a rather mean-spirited grin. Harry had always been amusing to needle; he had such an abundance of pride and honour. "You can't come with us."

"Can you walk, Ron?" Ginny asked, turning her back to Harry and pretending she hadn't heard him.

"Ron, you can't just let her..." Harry growled, but Ginny's temper had reached it's end. There was no way they were going to leave her behind.

"Look, Harry," she hissed, turning to face him once more, "you don't know how to get out of this cave. I do. If you want to spend the next four weeks walking around in the dark trying to find a way out, by all means, go ahead. The Death Eaters will have finished Hermione off by then. We need to start moving! If you don't fancy a month in the dark, shut your mouth and follow me."

Ron snickered for a moment before a fiercely determined look came over his face. Harry scowled at her so menacingly that Ginny felt a chill creep down her spine. "Calm down, mate. If Ginny wants to come with us, she can. I won't be able to talk her out of it, and neither will you, so just let it go." Ron's demeanour hardened and he continued softly. "Hermione's safety is what's important right now." The air seemed to crackle with Harry's frustration and anger. Ginny shivered. She nodded and led the two men down the stone corridor and out into the foggy night.

**A/N: I'd like to thank Shiiki for her editing and advice when I first wrote this. I've made some additional changes to this chapter, so any errors are my fault. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 5**

Ron was tense. His body hummed with adrenaline as it always did when he took part in a particularly dangerous mission. This time, however, the danger brought him no pleasure. Hermione's life was hanging in the balance. His wife needed him, and nothing could stop him from reaching her side. For the first time since that horrific night so long ago, Ron had something to fight for.

He walked quickly behind his sister though a dark catacomb of caves. His thoughts twisted and turned in the darkness, mirroring the unpatterned path Ginny led them down. So many times during the last year Ron had taken unnecessary chances and behaved recklessly during an assignment. His insides coiled in dread and guilt at the realization that he had been miraculously lucky. He could easily have been killed and then he would never have known that Hermione had survived the final battle.

"What are we going to do when we get to the surface?" Harry's voice grated from just over his shoulder. The air seemed to shiver with his irritation, and Ron felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at the feeling of the raw energy that radiated from his friend. Ginny bristled at Harry's tone, but continued to clamber confidently ahead into the darkened catacomb.

Ron, although very happy to see his sister, was still at a loss of how she came to be in this situation. Ron wasn't certain how he had got into this situation himself, as the last thing he could remember was sitting down at a cafeteria table for lunch with his wife.

Ron's throat constricted painfully and he felt a familiar burning begin behind his eyes. He took a deep breath to steady himself and concentrated on the sound of footsteps on stone to distract his thoughts. He didn't think he could bear losing Hermione a second time. He walked forward, a grim determination gripping him. He would rescue Hermione or he would die trying.

Hermione struggled weakly against the bonds that propped her against a tall stone column in the middle of a clearing. Now that she was lucid she wished she was unaware of her situation. Soft sounds of agony and terror drifted to her ears from the corners of the clearing where Malfoy and his accomplice were securing about a dozen Muggle prisoners to massive stone monoliths that blended into the foliage framing the large clearing.

Hermione watched the young woman who was bound to the stone structure facing her struggle valiantly and yell for help. After a moment Malfoy lost his temper and Stunned her. The woman slumped bonelessly against the ropes that held her against the stone and a small cry of shock escaped Hermione's throat. Panic held her within its talons, but she had to think. There had to be a way to get everyone away from Malfoy. Hermione knew it must be possible, but at the moment she couldn't think of anything.

Hermione's thoughts flew through her mind like frightened birds. A strange warmth anchored in the back of her head made it nearly impossible for her to hold onto a single thought for more then a moment. The tall, blond-haired woman had finished securing the last Muggle prisoner to the stone pillar. Hermione was running out of time.

Her heart beat wildly and sweat was breaking across her forehead. The woman approached Hermione, her features becoming clearer in the dim light. A cold sort of recognition flared within her mind and a sense of sick betrayal took root in her gut. It was quite obvious her friend Elaine had never been her friend at all.

"Shall we begin?" Elaine asked with a twist of her lips. Malfoy laughed in dark anticipation at her words and nodded almost gleefully. The Latin phrases Malfoy and Elaine spoke began to pull at Hermione's mind, the words just outside her comprehension.

"Elaine! Please, Elaine!" Hermione sobbed while her head pounded and the heat within her increased to the point of pain. It was too hot, she thought wildly, it was too much. A scream escaped her lips as the heat blistered and roasted her skin. She had to escape! Her bonds tore the smooth, unblemished skin of her wrists as she thrashed and struggled against the pain. It was a pain worse than anything else she had ever endured; even the Cruciatus curse – even her miscarriage. "Stop! Please!!" she heard herself yell in desperation but the spell continued to increase in power and Elaine's voice did not falter.

She was going to die.

At last the mouth of the cavern came into view, the fog-diminished light of the early morning revealing a dense forest. Ron pushed through the veil of ferns that shielded the opening of the fissure, a growing sense of unease gnawing at his belly. There was a foreign power in the air that tugged at him uncomfortably.

Ginny crept through the underbrush ahead of him, moving purposefully towards a destination that only she knew. Ginny had muttered incoherently about Death Eaters and intelligence. Something about the curse drawing power from the earth. Ron shook his head and tried to concentrate on the present. The bushes began to thin out gradually, seeming to open up to a clearing a short distance away. The alien power seemed to increase with every step Ron took. He knew instinctively that this clearing must be an ancient well of natural energy, possibly even a copse of monoliths.

A piercing scream tore through the muffled silence of the early morning. Ginny froze, her face paling. Ron plunged through the undergrowth, all attention to stealth forgotten at the sound of agony that echoed eerily though the stillness.

Hermione was in pain.

The pain and fear that laced her voice tore a cry of outrage from his own chest. Sharp whip-like branches tore at his clothing, but Ron refused to slow his rapid pace. He had left Harry and Ginny behind, but he couldn't force himself to delay for even a moment. There was no possible way he could listen to Hermione's suffering for a second longer than he was forced to endure it.

Ron burst out of the dense undergrowth and found himself at the edge of a stone circle. A brilliant white light shining from the central pillar blinded him. The light pulsed and dripped from a humanlike figure, seeming to drain from the body like blood. Ron's insides turned to stone.

"HERMIONE!!!" Ron pitched forward only to have his sight stolen once more when the light flared and then focused into a concentrated point no larger than his fist. He could now see the two robed figures that were standing before his wife; they were the ones who orchestrated her suffering.

"STOP IT!" he cried, anger overwhelming him. He dashed across the field, taking no more than five steps before he lunged at the figure closest to him. His momentum carried them to the ground in a frantic tangle of limbs but the flow of the Latin phrases coming from her mouth was broken. The light halved in intensity and Hermione's struggling ceased abruptly, leaving her limply supported by only her bonds.

"Hermione," Ron whispered, feeling a part of himself he had thought long destroyed truly shatter. She had certainly left him now.

The woman struggled and clawed at him shooting unforgivable curses into the air uselessly, jolting Ron back to attention. Ron fiercely twisted her wrist, causing her to cry out in pain and drop her wand onto the grass where he snapped it in two using his elbow.

"You bastard!" she hissed venomously and attempted to knee him in the groin in a desperate bid for freedom. Ron grunted at the hit and swiftly cuffed her across her temple. The woman became still beneath him and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Ron turned and saw the smirking malevolent face of Draco Malfoy.

"Impressive display, Weasley, but you're too late to be anything more than a nuisance to me," he said smoothly, raising his wand. Ron had shot off three or four powerful curses before he was even aware that he had raised his wand at his old school enemy. He watched in shock as Draco lazily waved a shield into existence and deflected every one of his spells. Ron yelled, casting every single harmful or unpleasant spell he could think of that might break through Draco's shield. Draco's smile merely widened.

"Do you feel anything unusual from the power of my Shield Charm? Does the magic feel familiar to you?" Draco asked, his posture exuding triumph.

"Shut up Malfoy! Drop your cowardly Shield Charm!!" Ron growled.

"It's her power I'm using now," he drawled, flicking his head towards the pillar where Hermione's body was limply supported by her bonds.

"SHUT UP!" Ron roared. "I'LL KILL YOU FOR DOING THIS TO HER, MALFOY, EVEN IF I HAVE TO DO IT BY HAND!"

Ron jolted forward, anger and heartbreak clouding his mind. Malfoy raised his wand and flicked it lightly towards him. Ron's eyes widened as a powerful Bludgeoning Charm connected with his chest, sending him flying nearly half the length of the clearing. His arm gave a sharp crunch when he landed, tearing a cry of pain from his throat. White-hot pain blazed through him. His breath came in short puffs.

Before Ron was able to draw himself to his feet, Malfoy was standing above him. A cruel smile curved his lips before he raised his wand. "_Avada_…" Ron closed his eyes, his heart aching with love for his wife. He would be seeing her shortly

Harry burst into the clearing a moment after Ginny. A prickle of dread shot down his spine at the feeling of malevolence in the air. "_Avada…_" a voice began.

"SILENCIO!" Harry bellowed at the figure standing at the edge of the clearing. Although the feeling of gathering hatred did not dissipate, it was a flash of blue light, not green, that flared in the twilight.

Harry's stomach dropped at the flare of negative energy. Someone had attempted to cast a killing curse. Harry quickly appraised the clearing, seeing the missing Muggles tied to stone monoliths that encircled the field. A hopeless anger surged within him at the sight of Hermione hanging limply against the central pylon.

There was an explosion of magical power and the hooded figure whom Harry had silenced began to approach. The wizard had thrown off Harry's silencing charm with frightening ease. "Ginny, please, you have to leave!" Harry said in a desperate whisper. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. Whoever this person was, they were exceedingly powerful. Harry couldn't remember the last time someone had been able to unravel even the most basic of his spells.

"I'm not leaving, Harry." Ginny said quietly, her wand trained on the approaching figure.

"Alright, have it your way," Harry whispered, his frustration coalescing into a focused energy. Before he was aware of what he was doing, protective shields formed around Hermione, Ron, Ginny and every Muggle in the clearing. The barriers glowed brilliantly against the morning fog, casting flickering shadows reminiscent of candle light.

"How noble of you, Potter," a sarcastic voice sneered above Ginny's outraged protests. "I'm afraid it's too late for nobility now, however." The cowled figure pushed back the hood that had darkened his face. Draco Malfoy's eyes glinted manically in the reflected glow of the Shield Charms. Harry started in surprise at the sight of his old nemesis.

"Harry, stop! You can't do this alone, you won't be able to! Let me out!" Ginny yelled in frustration. Her arms beat against the shield uselessly. "You don't understand what he's done; what the curse has done!"

"And I suppose you do, _Caroline_?" Malfoy asked, silencing Ginny at once. Harry felt ill. How long had Malfoy been aware of Ginny's identity? "Well, it doesn't really matter if you do know what curse the Mudblood was hit with because its effects will soon be irreversible. By the time I'm finished with you and the filth you insist on protecting, the spell will be stabilized by your own blood!" Malfoy had stabbed his wand towards Harry before he had even finished speaking.

Harry's shield rose a second too late and Malfoy's curse sliced through his jacket and deeply into his right shoulder. Harry inhaled sharply, his left had automatically risen to the injury. Harry distantly heard Ginny's panicked voice, but his pain-clouded mind could not comprehend her words. His wand arm was now next to useless and warm syrup-like blood was coating his fingers. If he was going to be able to protect anyone, he would have to directly overpower Malfoy before he became too weak to do anything at all.

"How does it feel to be facing someone who is twice as powerful as you are, Potter?" Malfoy asked gleefully while directing a volley of powerful spells towards his opponent. Harry was prepared for the attack this time and raised a shield for himself, deflecting all of the spells with a grunt of effort.

Harry's throat went dry as he realized that Malfoy _was_ more powerful than he was. Harry was panting from the effort and concentration it took to simultaneously maintain his friend's shields and mount an offensive attack. Malfoy, however, without the significant strain of multiple Shield Charms, had yet to break a sweat.

Harry fought to turn away the increasingly powerful curses that Malfoy was throwing at him. He could feel the ground beneath his feet being eaten away by the force of the deflected spells. "Harry! Please, Harry!" Ginny sobbed, her voice somehow reaching his ears over the hiss of sparks and destruction that surrounded him.

A hoarse cry rose in his throat as Harry focused the majority of his quickly dwindling strength into a single spell. Surely Malfoy wouldn't be able to block something so large, Harry thought, desperate to end the confrontation before he collapsed. Sweat trailed down his temple, and Ginny's desperate pleading continued to torment him.

His attack blew through Malfoy's defences and knocked him to the ground. Even before his old school enemy had landed, Harry had called on every ounce of his remaining strength to form a final striking blow. If this didn't work he had lost, Harry realized, his knees buckling. He had nothing left.

Once again, everyone counted on him, and this time, perhaps it had not been enough. As small black spots devoured his sight, Harry had never been more aware of the sound of Ginny screaming.

The Shield Charms simultaneously expired and at last Ginny was released, but not before she watched Harry slowly crumple to the ground. "Harry!" Ginny sobbed, dashing forward. Her mind felt numb and her legs wobbled unsteadily before she collapsed by his side into the upturned soil.

Harry's skin was greyish and an ice-cold sweat coated his forehead. His too-weak aura alarmed her, and suddenly the severity of the situation occurred to her. Harry had just drained himself of magical energy and in all likelihood Malfoy was dead. Ron had been hit with a silenced unforgivable curse and Hermione's magical power had finally been harvested. Muggle prisoners were bound sacrificially to stone monoliths and another figure lay unconscious near the center of the clearing. At least Malfoy hadn't had time to perform the blood sacrifices, Ginny thought wildly. The Muggles had not been slaughtered.

Ginny frantically groped at the inner pockets of her coat, searching for the small magical device she had never thought she would need to use. She had never been so grateful she had become an Unspeakable as she was when her fingers closed upon the small, abnormally cool cube of glass. Although activating the device would take the majority of her strength, Ginny took comfort in the knowledge that help was on the way. Through the device she would be able to summon her colleagues without the need to inform them of her location.

She concentrated, clutching the cube in her hand as tightly as she dared, siphoning her energy directly into it. She felt her body begin to tremble at the strain, but she bit her lip and continued to pour herself into the small device. At last, with a soft grunt of effort, she felt the cube overflow with her power, becoming as hot as a coal in her hand.

A series of rapid pops filled the chill morning air as the first wave of Unspeakables arrived in the clearing. "Help them," Ginny whispered, feeling exhaustion blanket her mind. She collapsed to the ground and the burning cube fell from her hand.

Ginny woke up feeling rather disoriented. She blinked her eyes clear and then carefully sat up in the rather uncomfortable bed she found herself in. The room was an antiseptic shade of white and the pungent smell of various potions irritated her nose. Four other beds lined the pristine walls of the room in the hospital. Ginny frowned, confused as to how she had arrived in a ward when she couldn't remember being injured.

Her eyes darted across the room, checking to see how many other patients surrounded her. With a rather strong jolt her eyes fell on the only other occupant of the room. A shock of raven hair contrasted severely with the blinding whiteness of the linens. Ginny's insides contorted in worry. Was Ron alive? Had Hermione fallen into a coma as a result of the ritual, or had something else happened because of the interruption to the spell? Had all the Muggles been rescued? Was Harry alright? Had Malfoy been killed by Harry's explosion of power?

At once Ginny felt hot tears fill her eyes. Nothing had changed at all. Even long after the final battle with Voldemort and after everything that had happened in her life she had still arrived in the same situation she had run from so many years ago. The fragility of life stung her. Her father was buried, as were her brothers Percy, Charlie and George. There was a good chance that others would die as well. Even after devoting the last two years of her life to bringing Hermione home safely, Ginny's best effort might not be enough to save her friend. The realization tormented her.

Hermione dreamed of the past, her body gripped by a coma, slowly weakening…

_The night was too windy for a bonfire, though no rain fell. Hermione sat outside the canvas tent keeping watch while the boys slept. She shivered and pulled the jumper she was wearing more tightly around herself and squinted into the darkness. She was bone-tired. So exhausted that each time she blinked it was an effort to re-open her eyes. But someone had to keep watch, and it was her turn to do it._

_ She could make out the swaying branches of the trees through the dim light cast from a swollen, yellow moon that hung just above the trees. The moon was not yet full, though it would be soon, signifying that yet another month had passed since they had begun their journey. Their terrible journey… They were making agonizingly slow progress. Almost eight months had passed and they had not __managed to locate a single Horcrux._

_ Hermione shivered again, refusing to let her mind recreate the horrors __that they had faced. She was just so tired. Her eyes sagged and her mind was lulled by the soft rustle of leaves in the wind._

_ She was so caught up in the soft symphony of the wind__, that it took her a moment to notice the movement from inside the tent. The canvas was pulled aside and Ron crawled out. He slowly and awkwardly __straightened__ to his full height. She stared at him openly. Her fatigue had stripped her of her self-consciousness and doubt. Even in the moonlight when everything was muted and grey, Ron's hair was red. The sight warmed something inside her, and for the first time in weeks, Hermione wanted to smile._

_ "'__Llo,." Ron said softly, tugging at his own jumper in the chilly wind. He hunched his shoulders and shifted awkwardly._

_ "Hi__, Ron," Hermione said softly, and budged over on the log where she sat. He sat beside her, and for a moment they both stared into the darkness._

_ "I couldn't sleep__,." Ron admitted, staring up into the sky. "I thought if I couldn't sleep, then I might as well let you get some rest."_

_ Hermione knew that Harry and Ron were concerned about her. She could tell by the way they looked at her. She was not used to the physical aspects of the hunt. She was in no way weak, but she knew she was not as athletically inclined as many other girls were. She was used to being all books and brains. Physical endurance was something new. But she faced this challenge like she faced those of the academic variety – with persistence and determination. The boys needed her. She would keep on going._

_ "It's my turn __to beon lookout. You don't really have to…" Hermione protested softly, staring at his profile. _

_ "__I keep on having this nightmare," Ron admitted, grimacing. While Hermione had been watching him since he had emerged from the tent, Ron had yet to really look at her. Hermione waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent and continued to stare into the shadows._

_ "We all have nightmares, Ron. After what we've seen__, it's not surprising." Hermione recalled her own dreams, tormented by Inferi, Dementors and Death Eaters._

_ "I know,__" Ron mumbled and turned to face her at last. Hermione felt a strong jolt when she saw the look on his face. His gaze was heavy and his jaw was set. "Do you ever wonder what things would have been like if there had been no Voldemort?"_

_ "I do__,." Hermione admitted and Ron nodded slowly._

_ "You'd be Head Girl, of course. Harry would still have his parents. And Sirius__, too. Dumbledore would still be Headmaster. And the most important thing in our lives would be who won the House Cup or the next Quidditch match." Hermione smiled sadly, hearing the longing in Ron's voice. Merlin, she wanted these things too._

_ "Do you think that… if we'd had the chance…" Hermione waited patiently as Ron fidgeted, picking fuzz from his jumper. "Do you think that we'd have sorted ourselves out by now? Do you think we would have been more than… more than just good friends?"_

_ "We would be dating__,." Hermione found herself saying decisively, and then blushed at her boldness. Her weariness truly had stolen her caution. It was difficult to be horrified by what she had just revealed when there were so many other things in the world that were truly horrific. Ron's head turned and he squinted at her as though he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard._

_ "Good," he said after a moment, sounding at once pleased and stunned by her proclamation._

_ "What about now, when there is a Voldemort?" Hermione asked in a small voice, her heart pounding at the enormity of what had just passed between them. There would be no going back to the safe refuge of friendship now. There would be no denial._

_ "I say bugger You-Know-Who." Ron whispered. His hand come up to gently touch her cheek but was entangled by the ocean of curls that surrounded her face. He carefully smoothed her hair away, his hand lingering by her ear. "I think we've waited long enough." His voice was low, but even._

_ His lips met hers for the first time and Hermione felt an electrical jolt travel the length of her spine. It was a chaste kiss; a first kiss sweet with promise. Hermione's heart thundered in her chest and she felt dizzy when Ron pulled away mere seconds later._

_ "I couldn't agree with you more, Ron," Hermione breathed, feeling light hearted and truly happy for the first time in months. Ron grinned, and eagerly pressed his lips to hers for a second time._

_ "I needed this__,." Ron admitted softly, his breath on her cheeks and his hand in her hair. "I needed something good in my life. I needed something certain."_

_ "I'll be here as long as you need me," Hermione __said and let out a startled squeak when his lips descended upon hers with unforeseen ferocity. It was like nothing else Hermione had ever experienced and certainly felt nothing like how she would expected it would feel. It was… nice, though. Ron was warm and his lips were soft but demanding. Hermione didn't know what she was doing and this became more and more apparent as the kiss lingered._

_ She knew she was tensing, but she couldn't help herself. What if he thought she was rubbish at this? What if he decided he didn't want to do it anymore? She was awfully inexperienced in comparison to him. One short peck from Vi__cktor, and one ghastly mauling by McLaggen could hardly count for anything in comparison to this. This was a real kiss._

_ "You're thinking too much, Hermione," Ron murmured, pulling back enough to rest his forehead against hers. Much to her dismay, Hermione let out a breathless giggle. Thinking too much? Merlin, she wasn't thinking enough if she was able to giggle like that._

_ "Sorry," she apologised as much for her tension as for the laughter that spelled its release._

_ "What for?" Ron asked, sounding surprised. He relinquished their close contact, and stared intently down at her. Hermione bent her head, feeling uncommonly shy._

_ "For not kissing right," Hermione mumbled._

_ "What?" Ron goggled at her incredulously. "That was…" Ron cleared this throat, "That was amazing."_

_ "Come on, Ron, you don't have to humour me. I know that you…"_

_ "It was amazing," Ron repeated firmly, cupping her cheek once more and stopping her protests. "It was amazing because I shared it with you."_

**A/N: ****J. K. Rowling is the rightful creator of Harry and his friends. Shiiki has once again done a wonderful job editing my writing. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 6**

Harry felt as though he had been hit by a Muggle street car. His eyes teared against the brilliance of the room and he quickly closed them once more. His mouth had a rather foul taste to it, as though he had been asleep for a very long time. His muscles too were oddly stiff, reminding him sharply of how he had felt three years ago when he had finally been revived after Voldemort's defeat.

When Harry's rather fuzzy mind fully comprehended the implications of his thoughts, his eyes snapped open again and with a grunt of effort he sat up in bed. His head throbbed at the sudden movement, and he was vaguely aware of an alarm sounding somewhere in the room. He squinted, slowly realizing that he was a ward at St. Mungo's

"Harry?" a bleary feminine voice asked, causing him to jump in surprise. He had thought he was alone in the room. He had been alone the last time. The Ministry had insisted on the 'very best' treatment for the famous Harry Potter, 'the Chosen One'. He supposed this time he was merely in a public ward.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, squinting towards the bed on his left, unable to make out more than a shock of red hair amongst the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. "I just…" He just what? he wondered. He hated the feeling of déjà vu that had overwhelmed him in his awakening. Surely he couldn't have killed Voldemort twice.

Killed. An ice-cold finger of dread slid down his spine. He had been fighting, he remembered slowly. He must have…

The door to the care unit burst open and before Harry could even blink, a booming voice had exclaimed, "Ah! Mr. Potter! You're awake so soon! We hadn't expected you to recover from your magical exhaustion for at least another week."

"Erm…" Harry had no idea how to respond to the large Medi-wizard's exclamations so instead he asked a simple question. "Where are my glasses?"

"Oh," the large man said, sounding as though he had been pushed off balance. "I believe they were lost before you arrived here, Mr. Potter." Harry grimaced. The large man moved a blurry hand to the pocket of his robe and pulled out a wand. "I have some pressing questions to ask you, Mr. Potter, before I can explain anything else to you." he said in a rather rushed manner.

Harry nodded, the ball of dread in his stomach increasing in size. A Medi-wizard couldn't possibly be the one to haul him to Azkaban, could he? The director of his Auror division hadn't given him permission to use lethal force, but certainly in the circumstances he couldn't be faulted for accidental death if MalfoyDraco had been killed. Could he? Would it really have been an accident if he had managed to kill Malfoy?

The Healer waved his wand and a blue curtain surrounded the bed, giving the room an illusion of privacy. "Have you previously had trouble controlling the volume of magic you channel into your spells?"

"Umm…" Harry hesitated for a moment, not wanting to answer the question. This was certainly not the line of questioning Harry had expected, however it too was a rather tender topic. His eyes darted towards where Ginny sat, hidden by the curtain.

"This is very important, Mr. Potter. It is crucial that you give me an honest answer to these questions." The Medi-wizard had retrieved what seemed to be a scroll from a near-by table. "Lives could be at stake."

Harry sighed, feeling very exposed. "I…" he cleared his throat, "sometimes." The man gave his head a nod, however Harry could not quite make out his facial expression.

"You were aware that following Voldemort's defeat you were in a coma for approximately a month due to your injuries and the vast amount of energy you had expended during the confrontation?"

"Yes." Harry stifled a wave of annoyance at the Medi-wizard's language. If these questions needed to be answered as quickly as possible, wouldn't it be in the Medi-wizard's best interest if he asked them quickly and simply as well?

"Have you had difficulty controlling unintentional magic since you have left Hogwarts?"

Harry closed his eyes but managed a rather gruff affirmative. In wizarding society accidental magic was _supposed_ to stop by the age of eleven. Admitting that he didn't have exact control over his magical ability was similar to confessing he wet the bed at the age of twenty-four. He didn't want to talk about any of this. It was all rather mortifying. Harry shifted awkwardly. There was no doubt in his mind that Ginny was listening to this conversation intently on the other side of the cloth barrier.

Harry had never considered the possibility that he might be a danger to himself or to others because of his lack of magical control. As the Healer spoke this idea struck him violently. Sharp humiliation burned in his chest. He knew he had to be careful, but he hadn't quite allowed himself to consciously recognize the danger he posed. He had been so selfish.

"Are these occurrences of unintentional magic expenditures of large volumes of power?"

"Yes." The memory of his initial confrontation with Ginny flew through his mind. He had damaged the glass in an entire block of buildings just last week. A ferocious blush rose to his cheeks.

The Medi-wizard's voice grew more and more tense with each affirmative answer. The older man reached into his robe pocket once more and retrieved his wand. "Have you ever had your magical signature measured?"

"Yes. Just after…" Harry broke off, his hoarse voice failing him. He vividly remembered the strange magical test that had documented the volume of magic flowing through his body.

"Do you remember what the result to the test was?"

Harry blinked for a moment, surprised at this question. "I was ranked a blue in the magical spectrum." The Healers had told him that Dumbledore too had ranked blue after his defeat of Grindelwald. To be ranked blue was to be very powerful indeed.

"I am going to conduct this examination once more. It is quite possible for a wizard's power to fluctuate after intensely emotional experiences." Harry nodded and the Medi-wizard raised his wand.

Harry's mind hummed with understanding in the moment before the Healer's spell took hold on his essence. So intensely emotional experiences could trigger fluctuations in a wizard's power? Harry couldn't think of a string if circumstances that could have possibly invoked more emotion within him than the events of the last few days. Hermione found alive, Ginny revealed as Hermione's guardian, Ron nearly killed, Malfoy destroyed – all of these experiences had made Harry's emotional compass swing wildly out of control.

But if he was going to be absolutely honest with himself he knew that his explosions of power were always tied to Ginny. She had always been able to invoke the strongest feelings within him, whether they were anger, irritation, happiness, joy or… love. Even after telling himself that he didn't care about her anymore, that he couldn't care for a woman who abandoned him, his body clearly spoke a different message. Nothing but love could create this much power within him.

Harry felt himself tighten as the spell began to take effect. The sensation was not quite a feeling of the body, but Harry felt it keenly with every fibre of his being. A white light was emitted from the tip of the Mediwizard's wand, slowly becoming red in colour and then shifting into orange. Harry squinted at the brilliance, and he heard Ginny gasp from a nearby bed. The colours of the spell were so brilliant that Harry had no doubt she would be able to see them through the thin cloth barrier that separated their beds. The light continued to shift through the colours of the rainbow, changing from yellow to green to blue and all the hues in between.

But the colour did not stabilize. The blue darkened into a deep indigo and then brightened into a violet before it seemed to extinguish all together. Harry's breath hitched in his throat, the sensation of pressure growing stronger with each passing second. The Medi-wizard shook his wand and terminated the spell, a grave look on his face that Harry could identify even without his glasses. It was the same look that Dumbledore had worn before he had revealed the prophecy in his fifth year.

"That was bad, wasn't it?" Harry's voice was harsh and he had to clear his throat twice before he spoke. The Medi-wizard could not hold Harry's gaze; his eyes shifted towards the floor.

"Yes."

"What did it mean?"

"It could mean many…"

"What did it mean?" Harry asked quietly, his voice becoming brittle. There was nothing worse than having someone try to deliver bad news gracefully. Harry just wanted the truth.

Glancing over his shoulder to where Ginny's bed was hidden from view, the Healer said "It might be better if I told you somewhere a little more private." Harry scoffed. If the Medi-wizard had been concerned about privacy he would never have conducted the spell analysis with an audience in the first place, even if that audience was hidden by a bloody _curtain_.

"I think it would be best if you told me now." The wizard moved as though he would protest. A glass sitting on a bedside table shattered and the Medi-wizard flinched.

"I have never seen anyone with such a large volume of magic coursing through them." The older man cleared his throat and continued. "The strongest magical signature recorded in recent history was indigo, and that wizard died only a year after the examination."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, his temper trembling beneath the surface. Why was he getting a history lesson?

"What I'm trying to say is that a human can only withstand such a large volume of power for a short time. The flow of energy takes its toll on the body and essentially burns the person up from the inside, much like the accelerated death of a phoenix; but people cannot be reborn from their own ashes." Harry stared. The Medi-wizard cleared his throat.

"As I was saying, the wizard with the indigo measurement lived for about a year following the examination. You… I'm sorry to say, Mr. Potter… have an infinitely larger volume of power flowing through you. I would hazard a guess that you have about a month left to live, perhaps even less."

Harry's eyes became sightless; his ears, however, were once more plagued by the sound of Ginny's tears. Somehow Harry didn't find it difficult to believe that the very power that had saved him from Voldemort was now going to kill him. That was just the way things worked in his life. It seemed that even after he had faced countless other threats, _love_ remained the most dangerous power in his life.

Ginny sat cross-legged on the hospital bed, staring resolutely at the strewn bits of parchment littered across the bedcovers. These little bits of paper, hastily scrawled in moments of hard-earned insight, could very well save the lives of two of the most important people in her life. But at the moment, Ginny felt as though she would be making better progress if she had been studying strategies of Muggle football.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't concentrate. Her chest felt painfully tight and she knew her eyes were red and swollen. Hunger gnawed at her stomach but she wouldn't allow herself to stop her analysis for even a moment. External distractions were also making her agitated; Harry's close proximity did nothing to aid her focus. As soon as the Medi-wizard had left the room, Harry had buried himself underneath the covers of his bed and gone to sleep! How anyone could possibly sleep at a time like this was beyond her.

Just when Ginny was wound to the point of contemplating pulling out her own hair, the door to the hospital ward opened. Ron limped into the room, aided by a Healer. He gingerly sat down in a chair opposing her bed and waved the fluttering attendant away. The young Healer left the ward rather reluctantly.

Ron's eyes were inset and bruised-looking. His skin was greyish and even the fire in his hair was diminished. It looked as though someone had tired to suck the life from him and Ginny was all too aware that Malfoy had almost succeeded in stealing her brother from the world.

Neither sibling spoke for a moment. The air was filled with Ron's harsh breaths. Walking had been difficult and draining for him. Desperate for something to distract her from her brother's reduced health, Ginny began to shuffle her notes.

"I'm not really supposed to be out of bed, but I managed to bully an intern into escorting me here.," Ron admitted, and Ginny frowned with concern. His voice wheezed and was much weaker than she was comfortable hearing. "I had to make sure… well…" Ron trailed off, looking tortured. "How is everything?" Ron asked when Ginny had stacked her notes neatly and placed them carefully on the bed before her. Ron's voice held many layers of meaning.

Although the question was simple, the answer was amazingly difficult to give. Ginny looked up into her brother's face and saw the stark knowledge of loss buried deep within his eyes. "They're dying, Ron."

Ron looked at the floor, a muscle in his cheek clenching. "Why?" His voice was coarse and Ginny once more found her cheeks damp from tears.

"Harry has too much magic and Hermione has too little." Ron gave a short bark of bitter laughter that transformed into a wracking cough. He waved away his sister's distress, and slowly his breath returned to him.

"Was Malfoy's partner turned over to the MLES?" Ron asked and Ginny's eyes widened.

"Malfoy had an accomplice?" Her mind hummed with possibilities.

"YES!" Ron shouted, aghast that Ginny had not known such vital information. With a great crash, Ginny jumped to her feet, scattering her notes over the floor, and knocking over a bedside table. A group of Healers heard the noise and burst into the room only to descend upon Ron, who was not supposed to be out of bed at all. Harry woke up with a start and the sudden explosion of noise.

Ginny, still clad in her hospital gown, slipped out the door, unnoticed in the din. She dashed down the corridor, adrenaline fuelling her exhausted, drained body.

Ginny turned a corner, walking in quick strides and gaining speed as a result of her annoyance. Ginny had asked the Healers who exactly had been brought to St. Mungo's along with her, but they had refused to tell her because of their code of secrecy. She knew there must have been about a dozen Muggles brought here to have their memories altered. She suspected that Malfoy's female accomplice had been admitted as a victim of the curse as opposed to a suspect.

If Ginny could just find her, and force her to answer just a few questions, she was sure she could save the lives of both Hermione and Harry. Ginny needed to figure out the general form of the magic-draining curse. If Ginny could figure out what specific part of the curse's machinery made it lethal, she could use a modified form of it to siphon some of Harry's excess energy into Hermione and then stabilize the transfer using a willing donation of blood. Hermione's magic would be restored and she would be drawn from her coma. Harry's dangerously high magical energy would be lowered and he wouldn't be incinerated by his own magical power.

Though Ginny had initially suspected the lethality of the curse was tied to gender, the more she examined her notes the less this hypothesis seemed to fit. Time was running out and Ginny was getting increasingly desperate to find a way to transform the curse into a useful form.

Ginny reached the general waiting room on the first floor of the hospital and sat down heavily in one of the vinyl-lined chairs. Her eyes were drawn to the various ill wizards around her, but her mind was elsewhere, still examining her knowledge of the magic-draining curse. She stared past an old wizard whose skin was an intriguing shade of fuchsia until she realized he was glaring at her. She averted her eyes just in time to see a young woman walk quickly towards the clerical desk and ask to be discharged immediately.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but I have strict orders from the Ministry not to discharge any patients admitted to St. Mungo's on the Thursday of last week. You will have to stay at least another day," the Welcome Witch said in a monotonous voice before brushing the young woman aside and focusing on the next patient.

"I have to go home!" the blond girl insisted, but was pointedly ignored by the lady behind the counter. She turned in irritation and walked back through the waiting room, her eyes darting through the crowded waiting room to fix on Ginny. Ginny's breath caught in her chest in shock.

Elaine stared into her brown eyes, shock and comprehension flitting across her subtly different, but easily recognizable features. Ginny jumped to her feet, and immediately Elaine broke into a run down the bustling hospital corridor.

"Elaine! Elaine, wait!"

"Get away from me, Caroline, I don't really want to hurt anyone," she warned, a hardness entering her voice that Ginny had never noticed.

"I just want to ask you some questions!" Ginny pleaded, her desperation spurring her on in pursuit, even when Elaine began tossing objects from the surrounding corridor at her. Elaine had been Malfoy's accomplice, Ginny thought with a sickened feeling. Betrayal didn't sit well with Ginny.

Ginny dodged a decorative potted plant that was hurled towards her after being snatched from a niche in the hallway's wall. Ginny drew her wand. "_Incarcerous_!" she yelled and Elaine fell to the floor with a crash, sending magical supplies rolling across the hallway. An enchanted roll of self-wrapping gauze slithered towards Elaine's prone body and began to wind it's way around her legs. A security wizard's yell echoed from down the hall and Ginny knew she would only have a few moments to question her prisoner.

"Elaine," Ginny said, kneeling by her former friend and trying not to let her feelings conflict with her need to gather the information she needed as quickly as possible. It didn't matter that Elaine had tricked her, it only mattered that she discovered the unaltered version of the magic-draining curse.

"I suppose you're going to get all weepy on me and ask, 'How could you do this? I thought we were friends?'" Elaine mocked in a cold voice that shook with anger and hatred.

"I need you to tell me what alterations were made to the curse," Ginny said fiercely.

"Ha!" Elaine sniffed, her eyes darting towards the enchanted gauze that had now made it's way up to her waist.

"Tell me now!" Ginny yelled, pointing her wand at the young woman and feeling such frustration and anger that she could quite possibly cast an Unforgivable Curse. The small tidbit of information could mean the difference between life and death between two of the most important people in her life! The security wizards were in sight now, picking their way through the debris-strewn corridor.

"Kill me," Elaine hissed, as though reading her thoughts. "I'll never…" A stream of angry red sparks burst from the tip of Ginny's wand and scattered across Elaine's face, making her flinch and cry out in surprise.

"Tell me now, and maybe I can find a way to keep you out of Azkaban." Elaine's wide blue eyes spoke clearly of fear, but her lips remained pressed in a thin line.

"Tell me now!" Ginny yelled, her voice cracking. "Tell me!"

"Please let go of the patient, Miss. Lower your wand," a hospital security wizard said sternly from behind Ginny, but she Stunned him before he could raise his own wand against her. Ginny felt a pang of guilt as the older man slumped to the floor, but immediately turned her attention back towards Elaine. The fair-haired woman struggled uselessly beneath her.

"Tell me about the curse," more red sparks scored the woman's face, "now or I'll call for back-up and have you hand-delivered to Azkaban this very second." Elaine's breath hitched and her eyes rolled wildly down towards the gauze that had now wound it's way up to her neck.

"Okay! Okay!" she cried, her voice finally losing the fine edge of superiority and disdain that it had carried throughout their exchange. "The framework of the spell was altered so that it could be stabilized by a blood sacrifice. That's what makes the transfer of magic permanent."

"I knew that much." Ginny growled. "I want to know what was changed to make the spell specifically lethal to Harry." Elaine swallowed convulsively as the gauze began to wind it's way up her chin before Ginny stopped it with her hand.

" It… it was the situation that made the spell deadly. Harry had to want to kill someone for the spell to be lethal to him. The curse would absorb the negative energy of his hatred and act as a feedback loop to destroy him. It had nothing to do with him specifically. We didn't change the spell other than the blood sacrifice, I swear."

"You didn't specifically tailor it to be lethal to men?"

"No." Elaine shook her head.

"What about the memory suppression?"

"Just a side effect of the spell's dormancy. Once the spell is activated, the victim's memories return and the blood sacrifice can be conducted." Elaine's voice was unnaturally high and fast.

"Can you control the amount of energy harvested?"

"Yes. Once the spell has been cast, stabilized and activated, the length of the chanting controls how much power is drained."

"What are the words."

"Don't you know your Latin?" Elaine asked in a bitter tone, but continued at the thunderous look on Ginny's face. "_Seco_ _substantia et colligo_ for the initial casting of the curse. _Propinquo_ _substantia_ collects the magic and _Recedio substantia et resarcio_ returns the un-harvested energy to the victim."

Ginny nodded and stood up, her hand releasing the gauze, which immediately resumed its slithering movement and fluttered past Elaine's chin. Ginny had to verify the information she had been given. If Elaine had been telling the truth, Ginny would try her best to see that she was kept out of Azkaban, but Ginny would also make sure her acquaintance was sentenced an equally unpleasant punishment. Using a non-verbal _Wingardium Leviosa _Ginny floated Elaine down the corridor in front of her and out into the main atrium. The Welcome Witch gaped at her, snapping to attention only after the third time Ginny had ordered her to call the Auror division. Though Ginny seethed with anger, she had more pressing matters to attend than to monitor what happened to Elaine. The sooner the traitor was in custody, the sooner she could work on saving Harry and Hermione.

**A/N: I'd like to say thanks to Shiiki for beta editing this story. Hope you all enjoy it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 7**

Ginny pulled every stunt she could think of to gather people together as quickly as she could. After squeezing the information out of Elaine, she had flung herself into action. There was not a moment to spare. Each second that passed, Hermione grew weaker and Harry came closer to a phoenix-like demise.

Ginny had decided that because the magic extracting curse was so influenced by the intentions of the 'victim', the intentions of those supplying the blood sacrifices could be equally significant. The blood and the magic both had to be given willingly.

Ginny had contacted her mother, who in turn had contacted all of her remaining family. Ginny had spoken to Remus and Tonks, who had also readily agreed to do anything they could to help after they had recovered from their initial surprise over seeing the long-absent Weasley girl. Ginny was unsure if they would be so obliging if they knew the blood magic she would be asking them to aid her in.

She raced through the hospital, feeling at last as though her efforts were achieving something. If Hermione, Harry and Ron and herself also gave blood, she had gathered the sacrifices already, assuming of course that once she had explained the spell to them they still wanted to help her and that Harry agreed to help Hermione in the first place.

Ginny's family and friends quickly filed into the spell-damage ward where Hermione was being cared for. Hermione's still form was concealed behind a thin curtain for privacy, and Ginny thought it better for her friend to remain hidden for now.

Her older brothers hovered anxiously around the periphery of the room. Fleur's alabaster skin was even more pale than usual. As promised, within five minutes of Ginny sending out her call for help, everyone except for Harry had assembled in the small room. They waited in tense silence.

At last the door to the ward swung open and Harry walked in, looking as though he had just rolled out of bed. "Ginny, what's going on?" Harry asked loudly, an edge to his voice she had not expected.

Ginny stared into Harry's narrowed green eyes for a long moment. He thought she was interfering, that much was clear. Ginny's gaze slid away from Harry and over the anxious faces of her family and close friends. Suddenly Ginny found herself uncertain of her own plan.

"Well…," sShe cleared her throat. There was no easy way to broach the subject she needed to discuss, so she just launched herself right into it. "I think I may have found an ancient spell that may be able to save the lives of both Hermione and Harry."

"But Hermione is dead," Fred said in a bewildered voice. Harry's eyes shot fire through Ginny's soul, but she refused to let his menacing look disturb her.

"Harry looks better than he has for over a year," Molly said softly from a corner where she occupied a small chair.

Harry stood rigidly near the entrance of the room, and for a moment Ginny was afraid he was going to walk out. Then Harry nodded once for Ginny to continue. His expression was still stormy, but his posture was beginning to relax.

"During the final battle, a blood -spell stripped Hermione of her magical aura. A few weeks ago the severed magic that had clung to her was harvested, throwing her into a coma. Harry was recently diagnosed with a lethal volume of magical power." Ginny took a breath and forced herself to look into Harry's eyes. "What I am suggesting is that we perform the magic draining spell on Harry and siphon a portion of his energy to Hermione, stabilizing the transfer by a willing donation of our blood."

The room was deathly silent;, Ginny's breathing was deafening in it's volume. Ron began to cough. Finally, Harry nodded. Relief flooded Ginny, so strongly that she had to ball her fists to keep herself from throwing her arms around Harry's stiff form.

"Are you sure you know what you're getting into Ginny?" Bill asked solemnly. "Blood -magic is not something to take lightly. It's often unpredictable, and sometimes even fatal."

"Surely there's another way," Mrs. Weasley whispered, her face as pale as parchment and her hands trembling where they were clasped in her lap. "What if something…"

"I'm certain Ginny wouldn't suggest something so dangerous if there was an alternative,." Harry said with a tired sigh. Ginny nodded, biting her lip.

"Does anyone have an objection?" Ginny asked, looking about the room carefully. Tonks' pink hair had become ash-grey and she clutched Lupin's hand tightly with her own but they made no move to leave. Fleur stood beside her husband, a fierce look of determination etched across her lovely features.

"I'd do anything to help Hermione and Harry," Ron said strongly. "Ginny will do her best, even if the spell is unpredictable."

When no other complaints or objections were presented, Ginny nodded solemnly and drew back the curtain separating Hermione's motionless form from the rest of the room. She walked back towards Harry and looked him squarely in the face before she asked, "aAre you ready?"

"Yes.," Harry nodded and Ginny raised her wand.

A blinding flash of blue light engulfed him and somewhere in the distance he could hear screaming. His mind was bursting with a disconcerting mixture of colour, emotion and sensation. His body ached as though his very bones had been replaced with molten metal.

Quite suddenly the excruciating pain ceased its torture and he found himself curled in a tight ball on the floor. He blinked in confusion, slowly unfurling his knotted body. He felt very strange, very empty. His mind had been stuffed full of cotton and his mouth was saturated with the distinctly metallic taste of blood. He had bitten his tongue badly.

His eyes slowly began to take in his surroundings, but his mind could not quite make sense of what he saw. Many red-haired people, along with a few others, stood frozen against the stark whiteness of the room. They seemed to be afraid to move. Or perhaps they were waiting for something to happen. He pushed himself into a sitting position on the cool tile floor and shook his head.

Nothing. He was empty.

"Did it work?" the frail older woman asked. There was deep sadness and fear in her voice. He hoped 'it' had worked. The woman raised a shaking hand to her mouth. Her pallor accented the copper that was still left in her greying hair.

"It worked," another voice came from behind, startling him. He turned quickly, alarmed that he had not felt her presence behind him. "It worked." Her voice was like sunlight, so brilliant it almost caused him pain. He opened his mouth, but found the strength of the emotions flowing through him so overwhelming that he could not form words. He was drowning in the sorrow of the older woman. He was burning with the purity of the young woman's determination.

"Merlin," whispered a man who bore a jagged network of scars across his face. "Is he alright?"

"If he's lived past the initial curse, Harry's fine."

Harry. He was Harry. His chest began to heave. The heat inside the marrow of his bones was slowly returning. He barely heard the mixed cried of horror and outrage that followed the woman's sweet voice.

"You didn't know!" A young man bellowed before dissolving into a coughing fit. Harry frowned, concerned for the other man's health even as the heat within himself steadily grew. The young man's body was being buffeted by the force of his cough. There was blood on his hand when he removed it from before his mouth.

"Blood magic is an unpredictable force,." A tall, plain-looking man said quietly. The woman by his side slid her hand into his own. Although both the woman and the man's hair were grey, they both seemed much too young to have been touched so by the passage of time. Harry felt oddly comforted by the simple expression of support that passed between them.

"Harry, are you ready to go on with the spell?" tThe girl asked. Her hand shook as it brushed long tendrils of blazing hair behind her shoulders. She was kneeling beside him on the cool tile floor. Harry's breath was coming in great heaving gasps now; the pain was consuming. Blue light was hovering around the edges of his vision, leaping just out of sight when he turned his eyes to follow it's progress. Though the young woman was asking him a question, he could not find it within himself to answer.

"Harry," she said softly, her hand reaching out towards his quaking shoulders.

"It hurts…" he managed to gasp, her contact spurring him to speak at last.

"I know it does," she said. Tears were spilling from her eyes. "Do you still want to help Hermione?"

Hermione. Harry knew the name should mean something to him, but in his pain-numbed mind would not allow him to remember. His puzzlement must have been apparent even through his grimace of pain, for the young woman squeezed his shoulder and took a steadying breath. "If you want me to stop now, I can." There was a hitch to her voice when she spoke. Her confidence seemed to be ebbing.

"I trust you," he found himself saying through gritted teeth.

"Thank you," she whispered, her breath softly brushing his cheek. Her hand trembled as she removed it from his shoulder, and Harry felt the internal pain more acutely than ever before. He pried his eyes open and gazed up at her pale ginger-framed face. Ginger. Gin. Ginny!

Agony such as Harry had never experienced devoured his senses. Ginny! A hoarse cry reached his ears and Harry was incinerated.

Harry's indecipherable yells of pain and Ginny's constant chanting echoed through the small room at St. Mungo's in a way that Ron would be unable to forget. If he hadn't known better he would have sworn his little sister was torturing his best friend with the Cruciatus curse. Tears of sympathy and guilt coursed down Ginny's cheeks, but her thick voice did not waver.

Harry's body hung in mid-air, suspended solely by the terrible force of the spell. Light streamed from his skin, more brilliant than anything Ron had ever seen. The light began to bleed from Harry's form, slowly coalescing into a pod no larger than his fist.

Slowly Ginny's voice began to change;, the words she spoke gradually lost their violence until she was speaking a single word repeatedly. Ron watched his sister raise a small knife to her own skin with shaking hands. A small drop of blood formed at the tip of the blade and Ron felt the bile rise in his throat. The instant the liquid had appeared, it was drawn towards the globe of light and swallowed. The light became red.

Continuing to speak, Ginny solemnly passed the knife into the hands of Bill, who was nearest to her. Bill nodded and raised the knife to his own skin. On the knife was passed, the colour of the light changing with each willing donation, until it was once more in Ginny's hands.

Ginny slowly approached Hermione's sleeping form, gently raising her limp hand and pressing the knife into her open palm. The light suddenly seemed to crystallisze. It lost it's liquid-like qualities and abruptly became muted in intensity; it now shone like polished metal.

Ron's eyes travelled to the face of his wife. Hermione's chest rose and fell in a movement much too fast for her to be sleeping, though her face was not pained. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron could see Ginny directing the globe carefully through the air. He held his breath, giving no thought to his own injuries.

The moment the globe encountered Hermione's skin it vanished, becoming a part of her. Hermione gave a great shuddering gasp and her eyes flickered, as though she had been startled from a deep sleep. Ron began coughing, having held his breath for longer than his battered lungs could tolerate.

His Hermione, his love, was with him once more.

Hermione was slowly torn from her pleasant dreams by a stream of soothing Latin words. Her mind was oddly clear, and yet her body ached with a deep pain she could not identify. She stirred, coming back to herself but wanting nothing more than to burrow underneath the blankets of the bed and go back to sleep.

Slowly the Latin phrases came to an end and almost against Hermione's will, her eyes opened. She blinked up at the white ceiling of the room and realiszed that she was once more at a hospital.

"Did it work?" a grave voice asked, causing Hermione to frown. Did what work?

"Hermione?" Caroline's voice asked, and Hermione blinked. Ginny Weasley stood beside her bed, looking down at her in concern. "Are you alright?"

"I feel like shit,." Hermione groaned softly, feeling very justified in her profanity. Shit was a rather mild expletive, in fact, she thought grimly. She weakly tried to lift herself to a sitting position. Ginny reached out and gently helped her up.

"I have to check on Harry,." Ginny apologiszed and Hermione was once again certain that it was Caroline speaking to her. She had lost count of the number of times she had woken up in a hospital with Caroline as her only company. Hermione nodded, feeling very lost but not having the energy to ask what had happened.

Hermione looked around and realiszed with a sharp jolt that the hospital room was not empty as she had expected it to be. Bill stood near-by, his strong arms wrapped tightly around Fleur's waist. Tears streamed down the French -woman's porcelain cheeks, but her Veela magic allowed even this to seem dignified. Close beside Bill and Fleur, stood Fred, looking pale and far too solemn.

Mrs. Weasley sat in a chair holding her head in her hands and weeping. She had become startlingly thin, and the copper hair at her temples was steel-grey. Tonks stood beside Molly, a consoling hand on the older woman's shoulder. Lupin's stood a short distance away, his eyes unfathomable as they gazed past Tonks and towards where Hermione lay. Hermione's gaze travelled left and then she saw him.

Ron's intense blue-eyed gaze warmed her to the tips of her toes. Tears leaked from her eyes, but Hermione did not think she had ever been as happy as she was at that moment. She was home. She had made her way home at last.

Harry almost awoke several times but was unable to open his eyes. He heard familiar voices speaking in hushed, concerned tones around him but his exhausted body refused to allow him to fully come to his senses. He ached terribly but at the same time he felt as though someone had removed a staggering pressure that had lain just underneath his skin.

When at last Harry managed to open his eyes he didn't move, he just blinked for a moment, feeling oddly, wonderfully, exquisitely _light_. A man's voice spoke softly to his left and Harry turned.

Ron sat in a chair facing away from Harry, but his head turned at the movement. "Ah, Harry, mate! You've finally joined the land of the living!" Ron said with a large grin on his face. Words could not describe how happy Harry was to finally see his friend smile as he had during their Hogwarts days. When Hermione had gone, Ron's true smile had also departed, replaced by sardonic humour.

"Ron!" a scandaliszed female voice cried in indignation. "What a callous thing to say! We didn't know if Ginny had drained too much of his energy and sent him into a coma! He very well _could_ have died!" Hermione! It was Hermione! Harry weakly pushed himself to a sitting position, unable to keep the a wide grin that had rivalled Ron's from spreading across his face.

"Ah, I've survived worse,." Harry said flippantly, enjoying the smug look that flitted across his Ron's face at his support. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise but then narrowed dangerously, likely affronted by the bravado of his statement. Harry laughed out loud.

"Merlin! I don't think I've ever been so happy to see you two!"

Hermione smiled softly at him and Harry was suddenly struck with the amount of time that had passed since she had been taken. Hermione looked so much older. It had only been several years, but it felt like a lifetime. It felt like he had finally awoken from a very bad dream. They sat in silence for a moment, simply savouring the luck that had brought them all together again after so long.

"Huh!" Ron huffed when the emotion in the room became too thick for his comfort. "Ginny would never do anything that could kill Harry!"

"But you heard what Bill said earlier. Blood magic is very unpredictable. Spells can go wrong very easily and very little details can change the outcome of some altogether,." Hermione argued.

"So, Hermione, what have you done with yourself these last few years?" Harry asked. He didn't want to talk about Ginny or the blood spell.

Hermione's smile slipped a fraction and her face paled considerably, making Harry immediately regret his impulsive question. "I'm not sure I'm ready to get into that quite yet,." Hermione said softly. Harry nodded, and Ron's hand enveloped his wife's. It looked as though Hermione's grief had been building for some time. "It was a difficult time for me."

The door to the ward opened quietly and Harry turned his head to see Ginny stride into the room. His breath caught in his chest, but the familiar flood of power did not come. Harry was certain the sharp jolt he had felt was only a product of his own emotions. "Oh.," She stopped moving in surprise, her brown eyes meeting his. "You're awake."

"I only just woke up," Harry said after some hesitation. He glanced over towards Ron and Hermione to see them watching the exchange with a disconcerting intensity. Harry shifted uncomfortably in the bed, moving his gaze back to Ginny who was still standing in the doorway.

"I'll go and get a Hhealer then,." Ginny said and before Harry could protest that he was feeling fine, she was gone.

"Oh dear," Hermione sighed, once more drawing Harry's attention. Guilt, regret and no small amount of frustration settled heavily in his stomach. Hermione didn't have to say anything at all for him to know that she was troubled by his interaction with Ginny. Hermione's empathy made him angry.

"It was very difficult, Hermione," Ron said softly, ignoring the icy glare his words earned him from Harry. The day was long past when Harry could intimidate Ron.

"Ginny didn't want anything to do with me after…" Harry said sharply, unable to keep the bitter twist from his tone. If this conversation had to take place, the sooner it was over, the better. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about, even with his best friends. "She was pretty clear about things."

"I don't believe it.," Hermione stated, shaking her head. Harry could almost hear her mind at work.

"Ginny left the minute she was able to get away from us after the battle," said Ron. "We couldn't stop her. Harry hadn't even regained consciousness when she went into seclusion for a bloody job!"

"I don't believe it. She must have had a reason to leave." Hermione repeated.

"It's a good thing she did leave," Ron mused thoughtfully. "She was able to bring you back to us, Hermione." The puzzled look on Hermione's face didn't suit her.

"It's in the past," Harry said, his tone leaving no room for argument or continued discussion of the subject. Ginny hadn't cared enough to wait for him for one month. All the hope he had felt prior to the battle had vanished when he had awoken in St. Mungo's to discover that not only had he lost many of his closest friends, but Ginny had _voluntarily_ vanished from his life. Her decision to leave had cut him just as deeply as Hermione's 'death'. After four years of fighting for the distant happiness Ginny represented, Harry had awoken to the cruel betrayal of her absence.

The door to the ward opened once more and a quartet of hHealers marched into the room. Ginny did not return.

After a rather trying three-week stay in St. Mungo's, Hermione and Ron had finally been discharged. Walking out of the magical hospital and into the street through a glass window felt very surreal to Hermione after living as a Muggle for the last four years. She couldn't believe that she had managed to find her way back to her old life. Everything almost seemed too perfect; everything would have been perfect if things hadn't been marred by that single day so very long ago.

"You've been awfully quiet, Ron,." Hermione said softly as they walked down the sidewalk, slowly making their way to the nearest Ministry- approved Apparation port out of the Muggle neighbourhood. "It makes me nervous." His lips twitched and he looked down at the pavement, taking her hand in his.

"I'm not _always_ loud, you know," he said. The teasing tone of his voice was not quite able to cover the deep emotion submerged beneath its surface. Ron had always felt so intensely.

"Where are we going, Ron?" Hermione asked, acutely aware of the distance between them. "I mean, what's going to happen to us now?" She swallowed and screwed up her courage to utter words that shredded her heart. "I… I would understand if…" Her heart ached and her throat was constricted with fear, but it was a question that needed to be asked. "I would understand if you didn't want to… be together anymore." They were different people now.

"What do you mean?" He snapped to attention and stopped walking. His face was very pale and his back was unnaturally straight. Not for the first time in her life, Hermione marvelled at her husband's height. But did he still consider himself her husband? They hadn't had much time to speak in St. Mungo's, despite the passing weeks. Would he still want to be with her after everything that had happened? Hermione's hand drifted from his. She paused and turned to look behind her. Doubts gnawed at her stomach. It had been four years and she had been dead in Ron's eyes. Surely he couldn't be expected to be faithful to a woman who had relinquished her hold on him. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" His voice croaked and he shifted his posture uncomfortably. "We're going home. Everything is going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen to us."

"It's been four years, Ron." Hermione said softly, turning away from him. She was going to truly die if he left her; he was the only family she had left. Her arms crossed over her stomach. She wouldn't die, a coolly logical voice spoke up in the back of her mind. She _had_ lived the last four years without him, after all. Those four years had been the most difficult and painful time of her life. "It's been four years, Ron."

"And they're finally over,." Hhe said with determination. He stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was simultaneously soothing and painful. It was so familiar it made her ache with sadness at the time that had been stolen from them both. His warm hands caressed her arms in the same gentle motion he had always used to calm her. It broke her heart. "We're finally together again, Hermione. Everything has been sorted out." But Hermione knew this to be untrue.

"She died, Ron," Hermione sobbed, the words pouring out of her mouth before she could stop them. This was not the way she had envisioned herself telling him. "I couldn't stop it. I… I lost her, Ron. I lost her." Her body shook against her husband's strong form.

"Shhh. It's alright, lLove, it's alright," he murmured into her thick hair. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Noo," she sniffed, her face crumpling despite her best efforts. "I didn't… I didn't even get to see her before… before they took her away."

"Took who away, Llove?"

"Our daughter." Hermione's breathing was erratic and she had the sudden urge to vomit. Merlin! What would happen if Ron didn't want her any more -; she had failed as a mother. Ron stiffened for a moment but then returned to whispering soothing words in her ear. It wasn't enough. "I'm so sorry, Ron… I'm sorry…"

"Shh, let's just get home, Llove. You have nothing to be sorry for." Ron's voice was hoarse, and his hands had ceased their comforting circles. Suddenly he lifted her off the ground as though she was weightless. She gave a soft cry of alarm before her arms encircled his neck and she buerried her face in his shoulder. "Never forget I love you, Hermione," he whispered into her ear through her bushy hair.

He carried her the four remaining blocks to the post-war Apparation port.

Ron stood in the kitchen of his small flat in London. Hermione was sleeping in the other room, having at last exhausted herself weeping. He should make some tea, he thought, feeling rather disjointed. He walked over to a cupboard and took out his self-heating tea-pot and filled it with water. He then reached back into the cupboard to grab a tea bag when he noticed his hands were shaking.

A daughter. Hermione had given birth to a daughter. Ron's strength left him and he slid down the counter until he was sitting on the cool tile floor. He couldn't believe they had been so stupid. She had gone into the final battle pregnant! But worst of all, in Ron's opinion, was that they had both been ignorant of her condition. He had been too wrapped up in the strategy and planning of the final attack to really pay much attention to anything except the approaching battle and his own bloody fear.

Even with all of his planning, Ron had been unable to protect his wife. Because of his incompetence Hermione had been forced to live the last four years in constant danger with no memory of her past. Heaven knows what she must have thought of herself after discovering she was pregnant but not remembering the father of her child. Hermione hadn't spoken about her feelings at all except to apologizse over and over in a broken voice that shredded Ron's heart. It was _his_ fault this had happened. If he had somehow stopped her from fighting, his daughter would be almost five years old.

_And Harry would have died_, a clinical voice prodded at the back of his mind. _Ginny told you that Hermione had willingly sacrificed herself so that Harry could finish his duel with Voldemort._ And Ron knew that if Harry had died the world would be a very different place. If Malfoy had managed to kill Harry, Voldemort would have killed Ron and Hermione. And after disposing of them, Voldemort would have proceeded to eradicate Muggle society in it's entirety.

But it hurt so damn much!

Ron's hands fisted his hair, the physical discomfort somehow easing the pressure he felt building within himself. His chest heaved in soundless sobs, but tears refused to fall. The grief he felt was beyond tears.

"Ron?" Hermione's hoarse voice asked. Ron's head snapped up to see his wife, clad in one of his oversized shirts, standing barefoot on the cool tile floor of the kitchen. "The kettle," she said, reaching over and removing the spell. Ron had not heard the whistling.

Hermione sat down beside him, pressing close to his side and resting her face against his shoulder and at last Ron's tears were released. He gasped and clung to her, burying himself in her untamable mass of brown hair. Ron was finally able to express the intense feelings of grief, guilt and regret. He sobbed into the side of her neck. "Shhh," Hermione's voice whispered in his ear, her arms wrapped tightly about him. He had lost his daughter, but he had regained his wife. "Everything is going to be alright," she said, and somehow, even through their shared pain, Ron couldn't doubt her words.

**A/N: I hop****e you all enjoyed this chapter. Thanks Shiiki for editing my writing!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner. No profit is being made from this work, and copyright infringement is not intended.

**Chapter 8**

Ginny stood nervously outside The Burrow, feeling rather moronic. She knew she shouldn't be anxious about visiting her own mother but somehow the feeling would not dissipate. The longer she stood on the stone walkway and stared at the house, the more painful memories were unearthed in her mind and the more difficult it seemed for her to move forward.

Ginny shook her head, feeling grief surge within her. Everywhere she looked she saw reminders of the people she had lost. Over by the shade of the oOak trees, Percy had taught her how to play chess. She had helped Charlie and her father build the trellis that arched, heavy with late- blooming Cclematis, over the walkway. They had used Muggle tools Charlie had given her father for Christmas that year. And over in the corner of the yard, hidden from the kitchen windows, George had caught her breaking into the shed before she was old enough to fly. Instead of telling on her, however, George had taught her the password to unlock the shuted.

Ginny took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to regain control of her rapidly fluctuating emotions. It hurt to be there, but at the same time, she could feel herself healing. The familiar sights were a soothing balm to her psyche. Her father and brothers had been gone for almost four years, but Ginny was only beginning to allow herself to grieve.

But Ginny was ashamed of her past behavior. She had run from her responsibilities like a spoilt child. Her father and brothers had died, and she had thought only of herself. She hadn't spared one thought to how her mother would be feeling after losing both her husband and three of her children. Merlin, words could not describe how selfishly she had behaved. Ginny _should_ have stayed to support the rest of her family in the face of tragedy but she had been desperate to leave once Voldemort had been defeated.

She had expected to feel victorious and free, but the fear and pain of the war had left deep and lasting scars. She had been forced to face the fact that her family was now four members smaller and that things would never be the same.

Though Ginny had been reunited with what remained of her family in St. Mungo's when she had performed the blood spell, she had not gotten the chance to really speak with anyone. Her reappearance in their lives was so sudden, she doubted they knew how to react. That was when Ginny realiszed that she could never go back to the Department of Mysteries. She couldn't survive the isolation a second time. She missed them all so much!

And so she found herself standing outside the front door of Tthe Burrow, simultaneously craving and dreading the company of her own mother. She knew this was something she had to face, so Ginny set her jaw and knocked on the front door to her childhood home. After a moment and some bustling from the kitchen the door opened a crack and her mother peered out cautiously.

"Ginny!" she exclaimed, throwing the door open and clutching her chest. "Oh, Ginny dear, don't behave like a stranger!" her mother cried. "Knocking at the door to your own home!" she muttered under her breath in a scandalised tone that made her daughter smile. She pulled Ginny into a wonderful warm hug which caused her conscience to twinge once more. When had her mother become so thin and frail?

"Sorry Mum, I didn't want to startle you," she explained with a slight smile. She wondered if her mother would have been less surprised if she had just walked into the house. Somehow she doubted the scene would have been any different. She had been away too long for her sudden presence not to be a disturbance.

"Come in, come in! Harry has just dropped by and we were having tea." Ginny started, but her mother obliviously ushered her into the kitchen. Harry sat at the kitchen table, his hands curled about a mug of steaming tea. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she walked into the room and he managed to send her a rather tentative smile before looking down into his steaming mug. It seemed he had arrived only moments before she had.

"Sit, sit!" Molly prodded with a smile when Ginny found herself standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. Ginny pulled out a chair at the table and slid into it rather gracelessly. Her mother turned back into the kitchen and began preparing a mug of tea for Ginny.

Harry cleared his throat, but his eyes remained glued to the surface of the table. "Uh," he sighed, and then looked up, piercing her with his vibrant green eyes. "I've been meaning to… thank you for everything." Ginny could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She could tell that Harry felt very strongly about thanking her, and for some reason it bothered her. She didn't want him to thank her. She had taken a terrible risk when she had preformed the blood spell. Didn't he realisze that she could have _killed_ him? Harry took a sip of his tea, making a face when it burned his tongue.

"You don't want to thank me," Ginny said forcefully, feeling guilt churn within her. She had no right to have prerformed the spell. If something had gone wrong she could have killed them all. Blood spells were notoriously volatile and violent in their reactions. She could have destroyed the entire hospital.

"Here's your tea, Ginny dear," her mother said cheerfully, passing a steaming mug to her from across the table. Her mother's good humour dimmed at the troubled look etched upon Ginny's face.

"I do want to thank you. You saved my life…" Harry said, sounding rather irritated by her curt refusal of his gratitude.

"I was too reckless," Ginny shook her head. "It's too soon to tell if there will be any side effects to the spell. Don't thank me yet. We should just wait and see."

"We should…" her mother repeated, the look of hope in her eyes made Ginny intensely uncomfortable. "Does that mean you will be staying?"

"I…" Ginny hesitated,; the certainty she had felt had evaporated. Could she really give up her job? Could she really give up her family for a second time? She had never hated herself more for her indecision as she did when she watched the light drain from her mother's eyes. "It's too soon to say, really," she hedged. She was going in to the Mministry tomorrow to talk to her supervisors. By the reprimanding tone of the summons she had received that morning, she might not even have a job to return to by tomorrow evening.

"Well… I promised I would look in on Fleur this afternoon," her mother said in a tired voice. Ginny felt like crying, but she nodded impassively. It was obvious her mother just didn't want to visit any longer and needed an excuse to depart. "I need to mind dear Paul for the next few hours." Her mother stood up and placed her still-full cup of tea on the counter. "Feel free to finish your tea without me."

Ginny sat in silence, listening to the crackle of the Floo connection when her mother departed. She let out a slow breath, her fingers gripping the mug of tea convulsively.

"You hurt her when you left, you know?" Harry asked in a hushed voice. Ginny's hair fell in a veil around her face when she lowered her gaze to the table top. She found she couldn't form words around the substantial lump in her throat. She prayed he didn't voice what she thought was coming next. It would be too painful and would just open up old wounds she had convinced herself she had recovered from. "You… you hurt a lot of people when you left, Gin."

Anger flared inside her unexpectedly at his soft-spoken words. They rang like an accusation in her mind. Harry was just as much to blame for this situation as she was. How dare he make it sound like he was the long- suffering hero when he had contributed to her decision to leave in the first place. _He_ had rejected her! She had not betrayed him!

"You know what, Harry?" Ginny asked, her voice hot with restrained anger. "I had to hurt a lot myself to even consider leaving." He stared at her in surprise as she stood up and walked towards the door.

"You're going _again_?" He demanded harshly. His chair scraped loudly on the floor. "Is that your solution for everything?!"

"Don't you _dare_ judge me, Harry," she yelled, throwing open the front door but turning back to face him. "I left because that was the only thing I could bear to do. And it's a good thing I did, or you might be a pile of ashes by now."

Harry recoiled as though he had been struck, but still he managed to speak in a rather strangled voice, "Ginny, you can't –"

"No, I'm leaving. I shouldn't have even come." Ginny bolted through the front door before he had a chance to stop her. The humid air of autumn promised rain, boiling dark clouds churned overhead. The trees surrounding The Burrow were decorated with brilliant russet leaves, but Ginny could only appreciate the ugliness of her own life.

"Ginny!" Harry cried, bursting from The Burrow. She could hear his footsteps close behind her in the crunch of fallen leaves. She started running. It hurt too deeply to behave indifferently towards Harry; she didn't want to lie anymore. A raindrop splattered across her forehead, and the leaves around her began to shift in a rising breeze but Ginny could not stop.

A sob was torn from her when a warm hand closed around her arm just above her elbow. She jerked away, but Harry held her firmly. "Ginny, you have to stop this," Harry said. His caring and concerned tone caused her more pain than frustration or righteous anger possibly could. Her feet stumbled against an outreaching root and Ginny became suddenly aware that her blind flight from The Burrow had taken them into the forest behind the house.

"What do you want from me, Harry?" Ginny asked, turning to face him and feeling rather cornered. His black hair moved like feathers in the wind and his new glasses were splattered with raindrops. He released her arm and she stumbled against a nearby oak tree. Above them the sky truly opened and rain began to fall in sheets.

"Why did you leave?" His question was so soft that Ginny barely heard it over the rustle of the wind and the growing patter of rain. She had fallen into his eyes once more, their questioning intensity burning her in a way that nothing else could. "Voldemort… Everything was finally over."

"I had to leave."

"But why?"

"Everything was over." She repeated his words. "I couldn't stay." Harry's hand came up and ruffled his hair, his face tense with an expression that she wasn't familiar with.

"You didn't wait for me."

Ginny stared, brushing a strand of her own rain-soaked hair from her face where it clung to her cheek. "Why would I–"

Bitter laughter escaped his mouth, his face clearly twisted in misery. Shock swept through her, leaving her feeling as though her blood had been replaced with lead. "No, I was stupid. Why _would_ you wait for me?" Merlin, did he really mean what she thought he meant? His hand left his hair in a violent gesture and his glasses were knocked from his face. He didn't bother to retrieve them from amongst the leaves.

Harry turned and stalked away from her, only to pivot on his heel and walk right back. His mouth opened, but Ginny spoke before he had the chance. "What are you saying?" Her voice came out harder than she had meant it to. Harry's frustration crackled between them and Ginny began to realise exactly how her absence had affected him.

"Oh, nothing really," drawled Harry. "I just always thought that when everything was finished that there would finally be time for us. I reckon I was always just a means to an end for you. I was such a naive little prick!"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Ginny snapped, feeling stung by his words. She pushed herself away from the oak tree. Her clothing stuck to her unpleasantly. "You were never a means to an end, Harry! You should know me better than – "

"I certainly thought I did!" he bellowed angrily.

"What makes you think I'm any different now?!" she demanded, stalking towards him. "You were the one who didn't want _me_!"

"Merlin, you're daft!" he yelled. "I've _always_ wanted you! If you had cared about me at all you wouldn't have left home and gone into hiding while I was still in _a bloody coma_!!" Ginny stumbled. Even now she could see the revulsion etched across his face that night in the basement corridor of the Ministry.

"You made things pretty clear the last time I kissed you! You couldn't hide your disgust! You could hardly get away fast – "

Harry stepped forward so quickly Ginny let out a squeak of surprise a moment before her back encountered the oak tree and Harry's lips descended upon hers. He was excruciatingly warm in the chill of the weather. His lips burned against hers and his harsh breath scalded her cheeks. His kiss was almost violent in its intensity. Ginny's heart raced in her throat but her mind floated gently to a halt. She clung to him as though she was drowning. Her hands fisted against the damp material of his shirt and his arms gently cradled her against the bark of the tree. She could feel his warmth seeping into her body.

Before Ginny really understood what was happening, her hand had moved from bracing herself against Harry's chest to becoming entwined in his fluttering dark hair. He gasped breathlessly against her mouth, pulling her even closer to him and kissing her more fervently.

Ginny had resigned herself for living life without this sweet passion so she found herself becoming rather swept away. Everything felt so _right_ between them. Ginny exhaled against him as she felt a hand gently trace lines from her neck to her shoulder. The calloused pads of his fingers brushed away rivulets of the rain that continued to buffet them. A low rumble started in the back of his throat, and suddenly everything was too much.

"Harry," she began, her voice sounding throaty and foreign to her ears. His lips moved to the side of her neck, and suddenly the words she had intended to say fled from her mind. Her neck arched to the side without her conscious volition. She melted into him. Everything seemed much more powerful than she could ever remember it being between them. There was only one thing she could do.

Stretching up against him she guided his face and caught his lips with her own once more. Her hands caressed his jaw, rubbing his neck gently before they fisted his hair. She assailed his mouth with deliberately slow open kisses, stealing his breath completely. It was sweet victory when he made a deep sound that was a strange combination of a moan and a whimper. Merlin, she had missed him.

"Gin," he panted, pulling away from her a fraction. "Gin, we need to talk about this." His gaze swept across her face, becoming pinned at her lips. Without his heat surrounding her Ginny at once become aware of the chill of the autumn storm. She nodded at his words. He was so beautiful standing before her in damp dishevelment. His cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen. His eyes had a rather unfocused look to them but they were bright nonetheless. Impulsively she caressed his cheek, watching in fascination as his eyes fluttered closed and he swallowed convulsively. How could she have possibly doubted she had an effect on him?

"You're right." The flush on her cheeks deepened at the breathy quality of her voice. Slowly he relinquished their contact. She couldn't help but notice the wonderful way his cotton, button-down shirt clung to his shoulders or the way it hung half-untucked from his trousers. She ran a shaking hand across her blazing face.

"_Accio_ glasses," Harry said somewhat sheepishly when he removed his wand from his back pocket. He frowned when nothing happened. Ginny's heart twisted when she realised that a few days ago this feat of magic had been second nature to him.

"Harry," she began, but he shook his head and repeated the spell stubbornly. She pushed away from the tree and summoned the glasses herself. She had done this to him. It was _her_ fault. He could not meet her eyes as she handed the glasses back to him. She turned to walk back to The Burrow, but to he grabbed her hand.

"I just have to get used to it," he whispered. "I'd do it again, so don't you _dare_ blame yourself."

Ginny nodded, tugging his hand. Together they slowly walked back to the tilted house.

Hermione awoke feeling sore and exceptionally cold. Her aching eyes opened to the sight of blue floor tiles and kitchen cupboards. She attempted to sit up only to find the comforting weight of an arm curled tightly around her waist. It had been a long night of grief, but after finally talking about their child, Hermione felt better than she had in a very long time. Today was a new day and Hermione was determined to spend every moment with her husband.

As though he could sense her wakefulness, Ron shifted beside her and drew her closer to him. "Ron," Hermione whispered, turning in his embrace. "Ron, wake up." Hermione watched his eyes slowly flutter open, startling her with their clear blue intensity. They shared a long look before her hands were tracing the lines of his cheek, the bridge of his nose, the smoothness of his lips. Instead of speaking, Ron's hand twisted in her hair, worrying the ends of her curls.

"We fell asleep," Hermione said, smoothing his fringe back from his forehead.

"Yeah," he said softly, his eyelids drifting closed under her fingertips.

"I'm cold." She could feel him nod a moment before he sat up, pulling her with him. She gave a small yelp of surprise at his sudden movement before he pulled her into a tight embrace. Ron chuckled into her neck.

"Come on, love, let's get off this horrible tile floor." He pulled them both to their feet and suddenly Hermione felt small and shy in his arms. He guided her through the flat and into the single bedroom where he released her and pulled back the heavy covers of the bed.

Hermione regarded him suspiciously for a moment but her sore body cried out for the comfort of a mattress after sleeping on the floor all night wearing nothing but a long T-shirt. She climbed into the bed and Ron slipped in behind her, pulling the covers up around them in a warm cocoon.

As it always happened, Hermione's feet remained stubbornly chilled while the rest of her quickly became warm. Suppressing a smile, Hermione reached out towards her husband. "Blimey, Hermione!" Ron cried in surprise as her feet found his at the foot of the bed. "I had forgotten about your bloody cold feet!" Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her husband's whining.

"Laughing at me, are you?" Ron asked in a mock-angry tone. He reached out and attempted to haul her towards him. Hermione squirmed away, but his hands closed around her middle and pulled her back. "I'll teach you to laugh at me, little Mrs. Know-it-all," he declared and began tickling her sides.

Great shrieks of laughter filled the air as Hermione struggled to free herself. At last she managed to gasp her surrender between raucous bouts of giggling. She slowly regained her breath and opened her eyes to find her husband gazing down at her intently, his expression such that she blushed in spite of herself. Just as suddenly as it had occurred before, Hermione was overcome by shyness. Try as she might, it was impossible to meet Ron's eyes.

In a brisk movement, Ron pulled away from her, settling himself at the edge of the mattress. Hermione's heart pounded and she watched Ron vigorously rub his face. Ron's early-morning stubble scraped against his palms audibly in the silence of the apartment. She opened her mouth to apologise, but Ron began speaking before she had the chance.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I understand that it's been a long time and that you don't really feel comfortable… I'll try my best not to pressure…" He sighed. "I'm sorry." His brows furrowed at his lack of coherence.

"Thank you," said Hermione softly and he sighed once more. She snuggled into the mattress and pulled the down comforter up around her chin. Her emotions swirled in a confused mass and quite suddenly she found herself on the verge of tears. She took a steadying breath, willing the joy and comfort she had felt just moments ago to return to her.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice called softly. She forced herself to answer but her voice caught thickly in her throat. "I lost you once and I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you again. You don't have to worry about me leaving you, or getting tired of waiting for you or any other rubbish of that sort. I'm here, and the only way you'll be able to convince me to leave is if… is if you truly don't want me here." He paused, sounding almost breathless.

"So you decided you would go and become a sensitive bloke when my back was turned?" Hermione forced herself to say, though her voice was choked. Ron grunted, and she laughed once more.

"Well, now that you're back I can toss all that messy knowledge right out of my head and go back to being your emotionally-stunted idiot," he said in a monotone, his mouth very close to her ear. Hermione's heart pounded so quickly within her chest that her head began to feel rather light. His hand smoothed her chaotic hair away from her neck in a caress that was so light Hermione barely felt it before his lips pressed tenderly against her speeding pulse.

"Are you afraid of me, love?" Ron whispered into her ear. "You're trembling." Hermione bit her lower lip and shook her head. She wasn't _afraid_ of him. How could she be? She was just… She just felt everything as though it was _new_, even though simple gestures of intimacy should feel comfortable between them. Not that she wasn't comfortable; she was more content than she had been in a very long time. She just felt as though she was seventeen again and Ron was kissing her for the very first time.

"I missed you so much," Ron whispered and Hermione turned her head and met his lips with her own. As kisses went, this one was far from perfect. Hermione's neck arched awkwardly and their lips met at a very odd angle. Ron had bad breath, but she was sure her own was worse. The contact only lasted a moment before Ron's lips curved into a smile that couldn't be contained. She blushed, feeling rather mortified as she felt Ron's lips give way to teeth. She pulled back and twisted her body to face him.

His blue eyes sparkled and something in Hermione's chest felt as though it had fallen into a thorn-bush, though the sensation was decidedly more pleasant. Ron's grin was so brilliant, she couldn't help but smile back at him. His mussed ginger hair fell haphazardly across his brow but he did not break eye contact. Hermione reached up and brushed his hair away. Her fingers trembled as they travelled across his cheek, the scratch of his stubble against her palm making her feel deliciously feminine.

He leaned in towards her and their lips met for the second time in four years. This time Hermione did not even notice their bad breath. She was lost in sensation, warming pleasantly at his gentle touch. His lips were soft, yet insistent. He nibbled her bottom lip gently and she gasped into his mouth. She was almost startled by the warm invasion of his tongue.

The kisses were quickly beginning to loose their softness. Passion, as Hermione recalled, was something that they had never had a problem achieving. Her hands fisted in Ron's hair and he hummed into her mouth, creating a delicious vibration that set her hair on end. His hand settled on her stomach and Hermione gave a startled "Oh!" as she felt his skin on hers. Ron pulled away from her quickly, as though he had been scalded. His eyes didn't leave hers, however, and though they were no longer in contact physically, Hermione didn't think she had ever felt so close to him.

Ron gave her a cheeky smile and sat up. "Do you want pancakes for breakfast or rashers and eggs?" he asked, swinging himself out of bed and donning a shirt Hermione had no memory of him discarding. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. Only Ron would follow an intense snog with an inquiry about the next meal. He paused. "I'll take that eye roll to mean, 'Yes, dear, I'd like four pancakes, and you are such a wonderful husband to be cooking for me.'"

"Yes, dear. You read my mind," Hermione laughed.

With a deep-seated sigh of exhaustion, Harry unlocked the door to his flat and stepped inside. It had been a long day, filled with self-loathing and guilt. He shrugged the long black rain-jacket off his shoulders and somehow managed to splatter water all across the entranceway. He had been forced to identify the charred body of Draco Malfoy that was being held in the morgue at St. Mungo's. While he wasn't immediately being charged with murder, he thought he deserved to be. A formal inquiry would be held within the week to go over the chaotic mess that his last assignment had become. He would know then, if his crime was punishable by law.

He was bent double and untying the laces of his boots when a sharp knock made him jump. "Ginny," Harry said in surprise, when he opened the door to see the redhead hunched over against the power of the autumn storm.

"Hi, Harry," she said, peeking out from under a hood and looking up at him. "Can I come in?"

Harry gave a start, his previous morbid thoughts making him slow to respond. "Oh. Of course." He pressed himself against the wall to give her room to enter the narrow corridor. She brushed past him and threw off the hood of her cloak. He went back to untying his shoes, feeling inordinately pleased that she had come to see him and then feeling guilty that he could be pleased about anything after having murdered someone. Dark thoughts tried to re-claim his mind, but he pushed them away viciously. Ginny shed her cloak and boots and waited for him to finish with his laces.

"Did you just get back from the Ministry?" she asked, peeking down the darkened corridor of his flat curiously. She looked up at him once more, and Harry felt his breath catch. Merlin, she was beautiful.

"Yeah," Harry cleared his throat. "I had to catch up on some paperwork," _because I killed Malfoy_. Ginny's hands were tucked under her armpits, and she gave a little shiver despite the thick moss-green sweater she wore. "Would you like some tea?" Harry asked.

"I'd love some, actually. It's miserable out there." The chill of autumn was deep and yesterday's storm had yet to wear itself out. Ginny gave a crooked smile, and gestured for him to lead the way into the flat. Harry had never before been grateful that the corridors were so narrow. He took a moment to enjoy her closeness before he proceeded towards the core of his flat.

He led her into the living room and gestured for her to sit down. Ginny settled herself on the small burgundy couch that dominated the cramped space. Harry smiled as she crossed her legs and pulled her sock clad feet beneath her.

"I'll be right back," Harry said and walked to the kitchen. He quickly took two mugs out of an oak cupboard and reached into his back pocket for his wand. _Duo_ _Calefacto __Aguamenti_, he thought, and gestured with a lazy motion towards the cups. A _single_, small jet of warm water erupted from the tip of his wand but didn't make it even as far as the closest cup. Harry cursed as the liquid splattered on the counter, jumping back, but not quite moving fast enough to avoid getting his shirt damp.

Tumultuous feelings boiled within him. He was so frustrated with himself, and yet logically he knew his weakened magical state would take a lot of getting used to. He had at least managed to cast that one non-verbally, he thought sourly. Shame fought with irritation as he forced himself to deliberately concentrate on the Drying Spell. There didn't seem to be any middle ground in his life – it was always one extreme or another. First too much magic, now too little.

But once again he was being selfish. He had donated a portion of his magic to save one of his closest friends, and all he could think about was how it inconvenienced him. He would have died if he had kept his magic anyway. He should be grateful that his energy could bring someone good back into the world. He would do it again for her if given the choice. Even if he didn't have enough energy and would have been reduced to a coma himself, Harry would still have given Hermione his magic. He loved Hermione like a sister, and she had suffered through so much because of him.

Harry shook his head and brought his thoughts back to the present. Hot water. He just needed two mugs of hot water. The second try filled a single mug. He cast the spell again to fill the other. Not giving himself time to brood over things any more than he already had, Harry grabbed two tea-bags and dropped them in the mugs. He returned to the sitting room to find Ginny staring pensively out the rain-streaked window from her place on the sofa. Harry handed her a mug before settling himself next to her, careful not to sit too close.

"They sacked me," Ginny said quietly and without forewarning as she sat the mug down on the polished wooden coffee table in front of them.

"Sorry?" Harry spluttered in confusion, hurriedly setting down his own mug. Surely she didn't mean the Department of Mysteries. She had rescued Hermione almost single-handedly!

"They said I had no right to attempt a blood spell even if I was using it for good." Harry struggled for words, feeling hot indignation well up within him. He shook his head. Her supervisors had no right to tell her that. Couldn't they tell Ginny felt horrible for the whole situation?

"They said I made a mess of things. McInnis and Fields spent the last five days performing Memory Charms on all the panicked Muggles who witnessed the echo of Hermione's curse. They thought the explosion of magical energy was a bombing," Ginny sighed. Harry watched her face carefully as she spoke. She didn't seem particularly upset about losing her job, but something was definitely bothering her.

"Then there were those poor students who were kidnapped." Ginny's chin quivered for a moment, but she took a deep breath and continued bravely. "Some of them are still in St. Mungo's being treated for shock."

"I don't see why you are being reprimanded for that. It seems to me the kidnappings fall under the Aurors' jurisdiction." Harry grimaced. "That was my fault," _along with everything else._

Ginny shrugged. "According to them I was responsible for everything remotely connected to my research." Ginny gave a hollow laugh. "They have the authority to send me to Azkaban because I used that spell… Not many people can make the distinction between blood magic and Dark magic."

"Bollocks!" Harry erupted. "We've both seen Dark magic, Ginny. What you did wasn't Dark. It was risky and unpredictable, but it definitely wasn't Dark." Harry frowned, unable to contain himself at her calm admission. They couldn't send her there, not to Azkaban! The Death Eaters imprisoned there would murder her before she had even arrived in her cell.

"They just wanted to frighten me." Ginny sighed and they were silent for a moment. Harry studied her. She had trouble meeting his gaze, as though she almost agreed with the mental wizards who had employed her and thought she should be punished. "They sent Elaine to prison. Even when I begged them not to. They said she knew too much about the Harvesting Spell. It takes a certain kind of person to be able to cast it…"

"Ginny, stop it." Harry sighed, shifting closer to her on the couch. "There was nothing wrong with what you did. You saved Hermione's life. You brought her back to us. You saved my life."

"Do you ever wonder what Pettigrew felt like?" Ginny asked, meeting his gaze tearfully. "Do you ever wonder _why_ he did what he did? How he could live with himself, or what provoked his actions?" Ginny set down her tea and turned to face him fully. The pain of betrayal creased her forehead. "She was one of my best friends, Harry. I trusted her. _Hermione_ trusted her." Harry gathered Ginny's quaking form into his arms.

"Shh… it's alright."

"No it's not!" Ginny cried into his chest, her hands fisting his own jumper. "I laughed with her, Harry. I _liked_ her. And the whole time… the whole time she was just… waiting for the right opportunity!" Ginny pressed her face into his shoulder, shaking with grief.

"It's not your fault that you believed her. It just goes to show that you see the best in people."

"But I don't! How can you say that, Harry?" She demanded, looking up at him and roughly brushing the tears from her cheeks. "I certainly didn't see the best in _you_ when I first became an Unspeakable! I abandoned you! Because I was insecure and I was convinced that you had grown out of our relationship!"

"That was different…"

"No it wasn't! You could have died…"

"You were protecting yourself, Ginny." Harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "When you are friends with someone you don't expect them to _want_ to hurt you. How could you have possibly guessed that Elaine had ulterior motives? The feelings of friendship you felt towards _her_ were genuine. And perhaps even some of what she felt was genuine as well. I don't think that either Elaine or Wormtail were able to come out of things without remorse. They're just people, Ginny. They have ambitions. Sometimes those ambitions take over, but in the end we all have to be accountable to _ourselves_ for our actions. Some people are just weak. They allow themselves to be drawn up in things they never really expected or desired to be a part of. But once you're in so far, it's difficult to get out."

"I'm weak."

"You're human. You're not weak. Not like them." Harry took a deep breath. He had to tell her. "I am, though."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"I killed Malfoy," he said and Ginny stared at him. "There was probably a way to stop him without killing him, but I couldn't think of it. I was too desperate. I murdered him."

"Harry," Ginny's voice was soft and comforting and nothing at all like he had expected it to sound after he had revealed this information. "You may have killed Malfoy, but you certainly didn't murder him. I know. I was there."

"But I'm glad he's dead," Harry choked, deeply ashamed by this admission.

"I am too," Ginny said in a voice as hard as stone. "After everything he did…"

"But Ginny, you don't understand. I…"

"Harry," Ginny said sternly in a no-nonsense voice that he had missed more than he could imagine. "You are a good man." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she pressed a finger gently against his lips. "You _are_ a good man. The fact that you feel so tortured because an animal like Malfoy is dead proves this. You killed him, yes. You _didn't_ murder him." She brushed his lower lip with the pad of her index finger as she relinquished the contact. Harry shivered.

"There's no difference…"

"Did you enjoy it?" Ginny demanded, sounding furious. "Did you like the way it felt to subjugate another human to your will? Did you feel _powerful_ when Malfoy slipped away?"

"No. Merlin. Never." Harry sputtered feeling as though he were fashioned of ice. Merlin, no! That wasn't him! Is that what she truly thought?

"Then you're _not_ a murderer, Harry," she whispered, wrapping him tightly in her arms. "You did what you needed to do to save the people you cared about." Her voice was muffled by the weave of his sweater.

"But I feel so guilty."

"That's what makes _you_ human, Harry." Harry's heart began to thaw at her words, at her warm touch.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered into her ear, burying his nose in the flowery scent of her vibrant hair.

"That's where you're wrong, Potter." Ginny said strongly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. A thrill travelled through his body at her direct gaze. "I'm not letting you go this time. For once in your life, be selfish." A choked laugh escaped his throat despite himself. "I mean it." Ginny's hand stroked the back of his neck and his eyes closed involuntarily. "Let yourself be happy, Harry. It's not wrong."

"I love you." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He opened his eyes in alarm only to find Ginny beaming up at him.

"Good," she said, looking very pleased. "Now, kiss me, Harry."

And he did.

**A/N: Thanks for Beta editing my work, Shiiki! Thank you all for reading. I hope you've enjoyed Harmony. I had a lot of fun writing it!**


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